
Tom pushed on ahead to reconnoiter the Upper Spring 

IPage 262} 



"Bring Me His Ears" 



By CLARENCE E. MULFORD 



Author of 
'Bar 20," "Bar 20 Days," "Bar 20-Three," "Buck Peters, 
Ranchman," "The Coming of Cassidy," "Hopalong 
Cassidy," "Johnny Nelson," "The Man from 
Bar 20," "Tex," etc. 




A. L. BURT COMPANY 

Publishers New York 

Published by arangement with A. C. McClurg & Co. 
Printed in U. S. A. 



^5 35^^ 



CopTiight 

A. C. MeClurg & Co. 

1922 



Publislied Oetober, 1922 



Copyrighted in Great Britam 




' */\0UCi 



Frinted in thfi United States of America 



"Bring Me His Ears" 

CHAPTER I 

HAWKENS' GUN STOR^ 

THE tall, lanky Missourian leaning against the cor- 
ner of a ramshackle saloon on Locust Street, St. 
Louis, Missouri — the St. Louis of the early forties — 
turned his whiskey-marked face toward his companion, a 
short and slender Mexican trader, sullenly listening to 
the latter's torrent of words, which was accompanied by 
many and excitable gesticulations. The Missourian 
shook his head in reply to the accusations of his com- 
panion. 

"But he was on thee boat weeth us!" exclaimed the 
other. **An' you lose heem — lak theese!" the sharp 
snap of his fingers denoted magic. 

" Thar ain't no use o' gittin' riled," replied Schoolcraft. 
" How in tarnation kin a man keep th' trail o' a slippery 
critter like him in these yere crowds? I'll git sight o* 
him, right yere." 

" That ees w'at you say," rejoined the Mexican, shrug- 
ging his shoulders. " But w'at weel / say to le GoheV' 
nadorf Theese hombre Tomaz Boyd — he know vera 
many t'eengs — too vera many t'eengs — an' he ensult le 
Gobernador. Madre de Dios — sooch ensult!" He 



BRING ME HIS EARS' 



shivered at the thought. "Wen I get thee message, I 
tr-remble ! It say * Br-ring heem to me — or breeng me 
his ears ! ' I am tol' to go to Senor Schooler-raft at Een- 
dependence — he ees thee man. I go ; an' then you lose 
heem ! Bah ! You do not know theese Manuel Armijo, 
le Gohernador de Santa Fe, my fren' — I tr-remble!" 

"You need a good swig, that's what you need," 
growled Schoolcraft. " An' if ye warn't a chuckle-head," 
he said with a flash of anger, " we wouldn't 'a' come yere 
at all; I told ye he's got th' prairie fever an' shore would 
come back to Independence, whar I got friends; but no 
— we had ter f oiler him ! " He spat emphatically. " Thar 
warn't no sense to it, nohow ! " 

The other waved his arms. " But w'y we stan' here, 
lak theese? W'y you do no'teeng?" 

"Now you look a-here, Pedro," growled the Mis- 
sourian, his sullen gaze passing up and down the slender 
Mexican. " Ye don't want ter use no spurs on this critter. 
I ain't no greaser! If ye'U hold them arms still fer a 
minute I'll tell ye somethin'. Thar's three ways o' gittin' 
a deer: one is trailin' — which we've found ain't no 
good; another is layin' low near a runway — which is 
yer job; th' third is watchin' th' salt lick — which is my 
job. You go down ter th' levee, git cached among them 
piles o' freight an' keep a lookout on th' landin' stage o' 
th' Belle. I'll stick right yere on this corner an' watch 
th' lick, which is Hawkens' gun store. He lost his pistol 
overboard, comin' down th' river, didn't he? An' th' 
Belle ain't sailin' till arter ten o'clock, is she ? One o' us 
is bound ter git sight o' him, fer he'll shore go back by th' 
river ; an' if thar's any place in this town whar a plains- 
man'll go, it's that gun store, down th' street. You do 



HAWKENS' GUN STORE 3 

what I say, or you an' Armijo kin go plumb ter hell! 
An' don't ye wave yer fists under my nose no more, 
Pedro; I might misunderstand ye." 

The Mexican's face brightened. "Eet ees good, vera 
good, Sefior Schoolcraft. Hah ! You have thee br-rains, 
my fren'. Armijo, he say : * Pedro, get heem to Santa Fe, 
if you can. If you can't, then keel heem, an' breeng me 
hees ears.' Biieno! I go, seiior, I go pronto. Buena 
dia! " 

" Then git," growled Schoolcraft. " Thar's that long- 
faced clerk o' Hawkens' openin' th' shop. Now remem- 
ber: this side o' th' junction o' th' Oregon trail I'm only 
ter watch him. If he goes southwest from th' junction, yer 
job begins; if he heads up fer th' Platte, my job starts. 
I ain't got no love fer him, but I'm hopin' he heads fer 
Oregon an' gets killed quick ! I hate ter think o' a white 
man in Armijo's paws. An' if he hangs 'round th' set- 
tlements, we toss up fer th' job. If that's right, va- 
moose." 

"Eet ees r-right to thee vera letter," whispered the 
Mexican, rubbing his hands. " Eef only I can get heem 
to Santa Fe — ah, my fren' ! " 

"Yer wuss nor a weasel," grunted the Missourian, 
slight prickles playing up and down his spine. " Better git 
down to them freight piles ! " 

Schoolcraft watched his scurrying friend until he 
slipped around a corner and was lost to sight; then he 
turned and looked up the street at the gun shop of Jake 
and Samuel Hawken, whose weapons were renowned all 
over that far-stretching western wilderness. Shrugging 
his shoulders, he glanced in disgust at the heavy, patented) 
repeating rifle in his hand and, letting his personal affairs 



BRING ME HIS EARS' 



take precedence over those of the distant Mexican tyrant, 
he swung down the street, crossed it, and entered the 
famous gun shop. He risked nothing by the move, for 
the store was the Mecca of frontiersmen, and a trip to St. 
Louis was hardly complete without a visit to the shop. 

The Hawkens were established, so much so that they 
Vftvt to be singled out by one of the famous Colt family 
with a partnership proposition. The fame of their rifles 
had rolled westward to the Rockies and beyond. They 
were to be found across the Canadian and Mexican 
boundaries and wherever hunters and trappers congre- 
gated, who scorned the Northwest fusil as fit only for 
trading purposes, laughed in their sleeves at the prepos- 
terous length and general inefficiency of the Hudson Bay 
muskets, and contentedly patted the stocks of their Haw- 
kens'. There is a tradition that the length of the Hudson 
Bay muskets, which often rose over tlie head of a tall 
man while the butt rested on the ground, was due to the 
fact that the ignorant Indians could obtain a white man's 
gun only by stacking up beaver skins until the pile was 
as high as the musket. Even worse than the flintlock 
trade guns were the escopetas of the south, matchlocks 
of prodigious bore and no accuracy or power, which were 
used by many of the Mexicans. That swarthy-skinned 
race which suffered under the tyranny of Armijo seemed 
to believe that anything which used powder was a 
weapon. The rank and file of the Mexicans were coura- 
geous and usually fought bravely until deserted by their 
officers, or until they were fully convinced that the mis- 
cellaneous junk with which they were armed was worse 
than useless. It can hardly be expected that men shoot- 
ing pebbles, nails, and what-not out of nearly useless 



HAWKENS' GUN STORE 



blunderbusses; or using bows, arrows, and lances will 
stand up very long against straight-shooting troops 
armed with the best rifles; add to this the great difference 
in morale, and the ever-present distrust of the officers, 
and a fair and honest understanding may be arrived at. 

Hawkens* clerk took down one of the great rifles to 
go over it with an oiled rag, which was another example 
of painting the lily. The weapon was stocked to the 
muzzle and shot a bullet weighing thirty-two to the 
pound, each thus being an honest half -ounce of lead. It 
was brass mounted and had a poorly done engraving of 
a buffalo on the trap in its stock. He turned to replace 
it and take down another when the sound of the opening 
door made him pause and face the incoming customer. 

The newcomer was neither hunter nor trapper, gam- 
bler nor merchant, to judge from his nondescript and 
mixed attire. His left hand had an ugly welt running 
across the base of the palm and it had not been healed 
long enough to have lost its distinctive color. In his 
right hand he carried a rifle which was new to that part 
of the country, and he slid it onto the counter. 

" Swap ye," he gruffly said, stepping back and leering 
at the clerk. " Too ak'ard f er me. Can't git used ter it, 
nohow. I like a stock with a big drop — this un makes 
me hump my head down like a bull buffaler. That's th' 
wuss o' havin' a long neck." 

The clerk glanced at the repeating Colt and then at the 
injured hand. The faintest possible suggestion of a know- 
ing smile flitted across his face, and he shook his head. 

"Those are too dangerous," he replied. "We don't 
handle them." 

"W'y, that's a fine rifle!" growled the customer, a 



BRING ME HIS EARS' 



heavy frown settling on his coarse face. " Six shots, 
with them newfangled caps, without re-loadin'. She's a 
plumb fine weapon ! " 

"Looks good," laughed the clerk; "but we don't care 
to handle them." 

"They've sorta put yer nose outer j'int, ain't they?" 
sneered the customer. " Wall, ye kin bet yer peltries I 
wouldn't be givin' ye th' chanct to handle this un," he 
angrily declared, "if it had a bigger drop an' warn't so 
ak'ard fer a man like me. Ye can't find a rifle in yer 
danged store as kin hold a candle ter it. I bet ye ain't 
never seen one afore ! " 

"It's our business to keep informed," responded the 
clerk, still smiling. "We heard all about that rifle as 
soon as it was patented." 

" But ye alius could sell a gun like this un," persisted 
the scowling owner. " Ye must have a hull passel o' ten- 
derfeet a-comin' in yere." 

The clerk frowned and his voice became slightly edged. 
" The reputation of Hawkens' is a valuable asset. It was 
acquired in two ways: honest goods and fair dealing. 
Most tenderfeet ask us for a gun that we can recom- 
mend ; we cannot recommend that rifle. Do you care to 
look at one that will not shoot through the palm of your 
extended hand after it gets hot from rapid shooting?" 

"I got ye thar, pardner!" retorted the customer. "I 
done that with a poker. Ye don't seem anxious ter do 
no business." 

" Our stock and my time are at your disposal," replied 
the clerk; "but we cannot take that Colt in part pay- 
ment." 

"Wall, ye don't have ter: I know a man as will; an' 



HAWKENS' GUN STORE 



he ain't all swelled up, neither. You an' yer rifles kin go 
ter h — 1 together! " He jerked the Colt from the counter 
and stamped out, cursing at every step, and slammed the 
door behind him so hard that it shook the shop. Thor- 
oughly angered, he strode down the street and had gone a 
block before he remembered that he was to keep watch on 
the shop. Cursing anew, he wheeled and went back on 
the other side of the street and stopped at the corner of a 
ramshackle saloon. 

The clerk was taking down another rifle when the door 
opened again and he wheeled aggressively, but his frown 
was swiftly wiped out by a smile. 

The newcomer was somewhere in the twenties, stood 
six feet two in his moccasins, and had the broad, sloping 
shoulders that tell of great strength. He was narrow 
waisted and sinewy and walked with a step light and 
springy. Dressed in buckskin from the soles of his feet 
to the top of his head, he had around his waist a broad 
belt, from which hung powder horn, bullet pouch, a con- 
tainer for caps, a buckskin bag for spare patches, a bullet 
mold, and a heavy, honest skinning knife. Slung from a 
strap over one shoulder hung his "possible" bag, con- 
taining various small articles necessary to his calling. In 
his hand was a double-barreled rifle which he seemed to 
be excited about. 

" Mr. Jarvis ! " he exclaimed, offering the weapon for 
inspection. " Tell me what you think of this ? " 

The clerk chuckled and his eyes lighted with pleasure. 
"I've seen it, or its twin, before. English, fine sights, 
shooting about thirty-six balls to the pound. They're 
pointed, aren't they? Ah-ha! I thought so." He took 
the gun and examined it carefully. " Just what I've been 



8 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

trying to tell Mr. Jacob Hawken. Look at those nipples : 
large diameter across the threaded end, making it much 
easier to worry out wet powder by removing them and 
working with a bent wire from that end. We have to 
work at the ball with a screw, and that is no easy task 
after the patch paper becomes swollen. With this rifle 
you can replace the wet powder with dry and fire the ball 
out in much less time. Where did you get it, Mr. Boyd ? " 

The plainsman laughed exultingly. "Won it on the 
boat coming down, from an English sportsman who was 
returning home. He said it was a fine weapon, and I 
thought so; but I wanted your opinion." 

"Take it out on the Grand Prairie and try it out. 
From what I can see here it is a remarkably fine rifle; 
but handsome is, you know." 

"I've tried it out already," laughed the other. "It's 
the best rifle in this country, always excepting, of course, 
the Hawken!" 

" As long as you put it that way I shall have to agree 
with you. Did you see the man who left a few moments 
before you came in?" 

Boyd nodded shortly. " Yes ; but I don't care to dis- 
cuss him beyond warning you to look out for him. He 
deals in draft animals in Independence, has the name of 
being slippery, and is known as Ephriam Schoolcraft. 
However, I'm not an unprejudiced critic, for there is not 
the best of feelings between us, due to an unprincipled 
trick he tried to play on my partner." His face clouded 
for a moment. His partner had joined the ill-fated 
Texan Santa Fe Expedition and had lost his life at the 
hands of one of Armijo's brutal officers, for whom Tom 
Boyd had an abiding hatred. On his last visit to Santa 



HAWKENS' GUN STORE 



Fe he had sho"v\m it so actively that only his wits and 
forthright courage had let him get out of the city with 
his life. " Well, to change the subject, I lost my pistol 
in the river, and I've heard a great deal about a revolving 
Colt pistol from some Texans I met. It shoots six times 
without reloading and is fitted for caps. Got one ? " 

*' Two," chuckled Jarvis. "A large bore and a smaller. 
They are fine weapons, but never rest the barrel on your 
other hand when you shoot." 

"I'll remember that. Which size would you recom- 
mend for me ? " 

" The larger, by all means. We are expecting a ship- 
ment by express down the Ohio and it should reach us 
almost any day now. It took the Texans to prove their 
worth and give them their reputation." 

" Fit it with caps, mold and whatever it needs. I need 
caps and powder for the rifle, too. First quality Ken- 
tucky, or Dupont, of course." 

The purchase completed Jarvis watched his friend and 
customer distribute them over his person and then asked 
a question. 

"Where to now, Mr. Boyd?" 

"Independence and westward," answered the other. 
" Spring is upon us, the prairie grass is getting longer all 
the time, and Independence is as busy and crowded as an 
ant hill. All kinds of people are coming in by train and 
river, bound for the trade to Santa Fe and Chihuahua, 
and for far away Oregon." His eyes shone with enthu- 
siasm. " The homesteaders interest me the most, for it is 
to them that we will owe our western empire. The 
trappers, hunters, and traders have prepared the way, 
but they are only a passing phase. The first two will 



lo "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

vanish and in their places the homesteaders will take root 
and multiply. Think of it, Mr. Jarvis, now our frontiers 
are only halfway across the continent; what an empire 
that will some day become ! " 

Jarvis nodded thoughtfully and looked up. "What 
does your father say to all this, especially after the news 
last fall about your narrow escape in Santa Fe ? " 

Boyd shrugged his shoulders. "Father set his heart 
on me becoming his junior partner, and to passing his 
work over to me when he was ready to retire. Two 
generations of surgeons, is his boast; and in me he hoped 
to make it three. Against that, the West needs men! 
Those Oregon-bound wagons bring tears to my eyes. 
They have cast my die for me. I am on my way to Fort 
Bridger and Fort Hall and the valley of the Columbia, to 
lend my strength and little knowledge of the open to 
those who need it most." 

Jarvis nodded his head in sympathy, for he had heard 
many speak nearly the same thoughts; indeed, at times, 
the yearning to leave behind him the dim old shop and 
the noisy, bustling city beset him strongly, despite his 
years of a life unfitting him for the hardships of the 
prairies and mountains. Being able to read Greek and 
Latin was no asset on the open trail; although school- 
masters would be needed in that new country. 

"I know how you feel, Mr. Boyd. Have you seen 
your father since you landed ? " 

Tom reluctantly shook his head. " It would only re- 
open the old bitterness and lead to further estrangement. 
No man shall ever speak to me again as he did — not 
even him. If you should see him, Jarvis, tell him I asked 
you to assure him of my affection." 



HAWKENS' GUN STORE ii 

" I shall be glad to do that," replied the clerk. " You 
missed him by only two days. He asked for you and 
wished you success, and said your home was open to you 
when you returned to resume your studies. I think, in 
his heart, he is proud of you, but too stubborn to admit 
it." As he spoke he chanced to glance through the win- 
dow of the store. " Don't look around," he warned. " I 
want to tell you that Schoolcraft and a Mexican just 
passed the shop, peered in at you with more than passing 
interest and went on. I suppose it's nothing, though." 

" It's enough to make me keep my eyes open," replied 
Tom, sighting his new rifle at the great clock on the wall, 
which seemed to move a little faster under the threat. " I 
thought they were watching me on the boat. Armijo's 
vindictive enough to go to almost any length. He isn't 
accustomed to having his beast face slapped." 

Jarvis' jaw dropped in sheer amazement. "You mean 
— do I understand — eh, you mean — you slapped his 
face?" 

" So hard that it hurt my hand ; I'll wager his teeth 
are loose," replied Tom, his interest on his new weapon. 

"Er — slapped Governor Armijo's face?" persisted 
Jarvis from the momentum of his amazement. 

" The Governor of the Department of New Mexico," 
replied the hunter. 

Jarvis drew a sleeve across his forehead and carefully 
felt for the high stool behind him. Automatically climb- 
ing upon it he seated himself with great care and then, 
remembering that his customer was standing, slid off it 
apologetically. He was gazing at his companion as 
though he were some strange, curious animal. 

"Eh — would you mind telling me why?" he asked. 



12 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

" He offended me; and if I'd known then what I found 
out later I would have broken every bone in his pom- 
pous carcass and thrown him to the dogs!" His face 
had reddened a little and the veins on his forehead were 
beginning to stand out. 

Jarvis examined the clock with almost hypnotic in- 
terest. "And how did he offend you, Mr. Boyd, if I 
may inquire?" 

" Oh, the beast came swaggering along the street, fol- 
lowed at a respectful distance by a crowd of his boot- 
lickers, and pushed me out of his way. I asked him who 
in hell he thought he was, in choice Spanish, and the con- 
ceited turkey-gobbler reached for his saber. The more I 
see of this gun, Jarvis, the more I like it." 

"Yes, indeed; and then what, Mr. Boyd?" 

"Huh?" 

"He reached for his saber — and then?" 

"Oh," laughed Tom. "I helped him draw it, and 
broke it across his own knee. He called me a choice 
name and I slapped his face. You should have seen the 
boot-lickers ! Before they could get their senses back 
and make up their minds about rushing my pistol I had 
slipped through a store, out of the back and into a place I 
know well, where I waited till dark. I understand there 
was quite a lot of excitement for a day or so." 

"I dare say — I dare say there might have been," 
admitted Jarvis. "In fact, I am sure there would be. 
Damn it, Tom, would you mind shaking hands with me ? " 



CHAPTER II 

ABOARD THE MISSOURI BELLE 

TOM wended his way to the levee and as he passed 
the last line of buildings and faced the great slope 
leading to the water's edge his eyes kindled. Two grace- 
ful stern-wheel packets were moving on the river, the 
smaller close to the nearer bank on her way home from 
the treacherous Missouri; the larger, curving well over 
toward the Illinois shore, was heading downstream for 
New Orleans. Their graceful lines, open bow decks with 
the great derricks supporting the huge landing stages, 
and the thick, powerful masts on each edge of the lower 
deck toward the bow, each holding up the great spar so 
necessary for Mississippi river navigation ; the tall stacks 
with the initials of the boat against a lattice work be- 
tween ; the regular spacing of windows and doors in the 
cabins, and the clean white of their hulls and super- 
structure, rendered more vivid by contrast with the tawny 
flood on all sides of them, made a striking and pic- 
turesque sight. Each had a curving tail of boiling brown 
water behind, and a bone in its teeth. These river boats 
were modeled on trim and beautiful lines and were far 
from being crude, frontier makeshifts. 

Several Mackinaw boats moved anglingly across the 

current from the other shore, and a keelboat glided down 

the river for New Orleans, or to turn up the Ohio 

for Pittsburg, helped in the current by a dirty, square 

13 



14 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

sail. The little twin-hulled ferry was just coming in from 
the Illinois shore, its catamaran construction giving it a 
safety which a casual observation would have withheld. 
The passengers clung to its rails as it pitched and bobbed 
in the rolling wake of the south-bound packet, a wake 
dreaded by all small craft unfortunate enough to pass 
the slapping paddle at too close a distance, for the follow- 
ing billows were high, sharp, and close together. 

On the great levee wagons and carts rattled and rum- 
bled; drivers shouted and swore as they picked their 
impatient and erratic way through the traffic; lazy ne- 
groes, momentarily spurred into energetic activity, moved 
all kinds of merchandise between the boats and the great 
piles on the sloping river bank, two long lines of them 
passing each other on the bridging gangplanks reaching 
far ashore. Opposed to this scene of labor and turmoil 
was a canoe well offshore, whose two occupants, drifting 
with the current, lazily fished for the great channel cat- 
fish which the negro population loved so much. 

On a packet, which we will call the Missouri Belle, a, 
whistle blew sharply and as the sound died away several 
groups of passengers hurried across the levee, scurrying 
about like panicky bugs when a log is rolled over, darting 
this way and that amid the careless bustle of the traffic, 
as eager to reach a place of safety as are chickens af- 
frighted by the shadow of a drifting hawk. The crowd 
was cosmopolitan enough to suit the most exacting critic. 
Freighters, merchants, hunters, trappers, and Indians 
returning to the upper trading posts or to their own 
country; gamblers; a frock-coated minister who suspi- 
ciously regarded every box and barrel and bale that he 
saw rolled up the freight gangplank, and who was a per- 



ABOARD THE MISSOURI BELLE ig 

son of great interest to many pairs of eyes on and off the 
boat; a priest; a voluble, chattering group of coureurs des 
hois; a small crowd of soldiers going up to Fort Leaven- 
worth; emigrants, boatmen, and travelers made up the 
hurrying procession or stood at the rails and watched the 
confusion on the levee. 

Tom joined the animated stream, swinging in behind 
an elderly gentleman who escorted a young lady of un- 
flurried demeanor through the maelstrom of wagons, 
carts, mules, horses, passengers, and heavily laden ne- 
groes. Caught in a jam and forced to make a quick 
decision and to follow it instantly, the young lady 
dropped her glove in picking up her skirts and a nervous 
horse was about to stamp it into the dirt and dust when 
Tom leaped forward. Grasping the bridle with one hand, 
he bent swiftly and reached for the glove with the other. 
As he was about to grasp it, a man dressed in nondescript 
clothes left his Mexican companion and bent forward on 
the other side of the horse, his lean, brown fingers 
eagerly outstretched. 

Tom's surprise at this unexpected interference acted 
galvanically and his hand, turning up from the glove, 
grasped the thrusting fingers of the other in a grip which 
not only was powerful but doubly effective by its unex- 
pectedness. He swiftly straightened the wrist and fore- 
arm of his rival into perfect alignment with the rest of 
the arm and then, with a sudden dropping of his own 
elbow, he turned the other's arm throwing all his strength 
and weight into the motion. The result was ludicrous. 
The rival, bent forward, his other hand on the ground, 
had to give way in a hurry or have his arm dislocated. 
His right foot arose swiftly into the air and described a 



i6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

short arc as his whole body followed it; and quicker 
than it takes to tell it he was bridged much the same as a 
wrestler, his arched back to the ground. Tom grinned 
sardonically and with a swift jerk yanked his adversary 
off his balance, and as the other sprawled grotesquely in 
the dust, the victor of the little tilt picked up the glove, 
leaped nimbly aside and looked eagerly around for its 
owner. He no sooner stood erect than he saw her with a 
handkerchief stuffed in her mouth and, bowing stiffly and 
with sober face he gravely presented the glove to her. 
She had waited, despite all her escort could do, somewhat 
breathlessly watching the rescue and the short, quick 
comedy incidental to it; and now, with reddened cheeks 
and mischievous eyes, she took the glove and murmured 
her thanks. The elderly gentleman, grinning from ear to 
ear, raised his high beaver, thanked the plainsman, and 
then hurried his charge onto the boat, fearful of the time 
lost. 

Tom stood in his tracks staring after them, hypnotized 
by the beauty of the face and the timbre of the voice of 
the woman whose eyes had challenged him as she had 
turned away. 

The profane remarks of the wagon driver, the more 
picturesque remarks of others drivers, and the vociferous, 
white-toothed delight of the negroes did not soothe 
Ephriam Schoolcraft's outraged dignity nor help to cool 
his anger, and he arose from his dust bath seeking whom 
he might devour. He did not have to seek far, for a ne- 
gro's shouted warning reached Tom in time to spin him 
around to await his adversary. The plainsman was cool, 
imperturbable, and smiling slightly with amusement. 

Schoolcraft leaped for him and was sent spinning 



ABOARD THE MISSOURI BELLE 17 

against a pile of freight. As he recovered his balance his 
hand streaked for his belt, but stopped in the air as he 
gazed down the barrel of the new Colt snuggling against 
the hip of the younger man. It must have looked espe- 
cially vicious to a man accustomed to a single-shot pistol, 
or a double-barreled Derringer, at best. 

"That was no killing matter," said Tom quietly. 
** Don't make it so, and don't make us both miss that 
packet, and get locked up in a St. Louis jail. I'll get out 
again quicker than you, but that hardly matters. If you're 
going aboard, go ahead; I'm in no great hurry." Out of 
the corner of his eye he was watching the Mexican, but 
found nothing threatening. 

Schoolcraft glared at him, allowed a hypocritical smile 
to mask his feelings, bowed politely, and walked down 
the levee, the Mexican following him, and Tom bringing 
up the rear. They were quickly separated by the bustle 
on the boat, each giving his immediate attention to the 
preparations necessary for his comfort during the voyage. 

A second blast of the whistle was followed by the 
groaning of the great derrick as it lifted the landing stage 
and swung it aboard; lines were hauled in and the pas- 
sengers along the rails waved their adieus and called last 
minute messages to those they were leaving behind. It 
would be many years before some of them saw their 
friends again, and for a few the reunion would not be on 
this earth. A bell rang aft and the great stern paddle 
slapped and thrashed noisily as it bit and tore at the yel- 
low water beneath it. Showers of sparks, incandescent 
as they left the towering stacks, fell in gray flakes on the 
decks and the river, the bluish smoke of the wood fires 
trailing straighter and straighter astern as the packet 



i8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

rounded into the boiling current and pushed upstream at 
a constantly increasing speed, leaving behind her the 
western metropolis on the left-hand bank and a strag- 
gling hamlet on the other. 

Here the Mississippi is a mighty river, approaching 
half a mile in width between its limestone banks; deep, 
swift, its current boiling up the muddy contribution of 
the great Missouri, as if eager to expose the infamy of its 
pollution to the world. But whatever it lost in purity by 
the addition of the muddy water, pouring in eighteen miles 
above the city, it gained in greatness. Other large rivers 
have been tamed and rendered nearly harmless, but these 
two have baffled man's labors and ingenuity, and finally 
the contributing stream has been given up as incorrigible. 

The confusion of the passengers attending to their bag- 
gage, places at table and their sleeping quarters grew 
constantly less as mile followed mile, and by the time the 
Belle swung in a great, westward curve to leave the 
Father of Waters for the more turbid and treacherous 
bosom of the Big Muddy, many were eagerly looking for 
the line marking the joining of the two great streams. It 
was plain to the eye, for the jutting brown flood of the 
Missouri, dotted with great masses of drift, was treated 
with proper suspicion by the clearer flood of the nobler 
stream, and curved far out into the latter without losing 
the identity of its outer edge for some distance below. 



CHAPTER III 



ARMIJO S STRONG ARM 



PILOTING on the Mississippi was tricky enough, 
with the shifting bars and the deadly, submerged 
logs, stumps, and trees; but the Missouri was in a class 
by itself; indeed, at various stages of high water it 
seemed hardly to know its own channels or, in some 
places, even its own bed. It threw up an island today to 
remove it next week or ten years later, and cut a new 
channel to close up an old one whenever the mood suited. 
Gnawing off soft clay promontories or cutting in behind 
them was a favorite pastime; and the sand and clay of its 
banks and the vast expanses of its bottoms coaxed it into 
capricious excursions afield. More than one innocent 
and unsuspecting settler, locating what he considered to 
be a reasonable distance from its shores on some rich 
bottom, found his particular portion of the earth's sur- 
face under the river or on its further bank when he 
returned from a precipitate and entirely willing flight. 

There were two tricks used on the river to get out of 
sandbar difficulties that deserve mention. During certain 
stages of the river it for some reason would cross over 
from one side of its bed to the other, and between the old 
and the new deep channels would be a space of considera- 
ble distance crossed by the water where there was no 
channel, but only a number of shallow washes, none of 
which perhaps would be deep enough to let a steamboat 
19 



20 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

through. The deepest would be selected, and if only two 
or three more inches of water were needed, the boat would 
be run up as far as it could go, the crew would fix the 
two great spars with their shoes against the bottom, 
slanting downstream, set the steam capstans drawing on 
their ropes, and then reverse the paddle wheel. The 
turning of the great wheel would force water under the 
hull while the spars pushed backward and, raising a plat- 
form of water around her and taking it with her, she 
would slide over the shallow place and go on about her 
business. 

In case of a bar where there were no submerged banks 
to hold a platform of water, and only a few more inches 
needed, the spars would be used as before, but the paddle 
wheel would remain idle. The backward thrust of the 
spars would force the boat ahead, while their lifting mo- 
tion would raise it a little. This being repeated again and 
again would eventually "walk" the boat across and into 
deeper water on the other side. It was a slow and labo- 
rious operation and sometimes took a day or two, but it 
was preferable to lying tied to the bank and waiting for a 
rise, often a matter of a week or more. 

All this was an old story to Tom, who now was on his 
fifth trip up the river, for he was an observant young 
man and one who easily became acquainted with persons 
he wished to know. These included the officers and pilots, 
who took to the upstanding young plainsman at first 
sight and gave painstaking answers to his many but sen- 
sible questions. In consequence his knowledge of the 
river was wide and deep, although not founded on prac- 
tical experience. 

Long before the packet turned into the Missouri he 



ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 21 

had his affairs attended to and was leaning against the 
rail enjoying the shifting panorama. But the scenery did 
not take all of his attention, for he was keeping a watch 
for a certain Mexican trader and for the young lady of 
the glove; and after the boat had rounded into the Big 
Muddy, he caught sight of the more interesting of the two 
as she walked forward on the port side in the company 
of her escort. Waiting a few moments to see if they 
would discover him, he soon gave it up and went in 
search of the purser, who seemed to know about everyone 
of note in St. Louis. 

" Hello, Tom," called that officer, having recovered his 
breath after the rush. "Yo're goin' back purty quick, 
ain't you ? " 

" Reckon not. One night an' one day in th' city was 
enough. But this cussed packet is near as lonesome. I 
don't know a passenger on board." 

"I can fix that," laughed the purser. "I know about 
three-quarters of 'em, an' can guess at th' rest. I counted 
seven professional gamblers comin' up th' plank. They'll 
be in each other's way. You feelin' like some excite- 
ment?" 

" Not with any of them," answered Tom, grinning. " I 
can count seven times seven of them fellers in Independ- 
ence; an' I hear some of 'em are plannin' to join up 
with th' next outgoing train." 

"Well," mused the purser. His face cleared. "There's 
that sneakin' minister. Havin' looked in everythin' but 
our mouths, he'll mebby have time to convert a sinner. 
How 'bout him?" 

" Don't hardly think he can do much with me," mut- 
tered Tom. He considered a moment and tried to hid& 



22 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

his grin. " Now I noticed an elderly old gentleman with 
a young lady, gettin' aboard jest before I did. They was 
leavin' you when I showed up. Happen to know 'em ? " 

" You shouldn't 'a' give back th' glove when you did," 
laughed the officer. "You should 'a' had yore quarrel 
with Schoolcraft first, so you could 'a' waited till we was 
under way before you handed it back to her. That 
would 'a' give you a better chance to get acquainted. 
I've heard that frontierin' sharpens a man's wits, but I 
dunno. Want to meet 'em? Th' old sport's interesting 
when he ain't tryin' to beat th' gamblers at their own 
game. An' he's plumb successful at it, too, if there ain't 
too many ag'in him." 

Tom had the grace to flush under his tan, but he thank- 
fully accepted the bantering and the suggestion. " What 
you suppose I've risked wastin' my time talkin' to you 
for?" he demanded. 

"You know cussed well you wasn't wastin' it," re- 
torted the purser. " Come on, an' meet one of th' finest 
young ladies in St. Louis. She won't care if you pay 
more attention to her uncle." 

A few minutes later Tom had been made acquainted 
with the couple and they soon discovered that they had 
mutual friends in the city. Time passed rapidly and 
Patience Cooper and her uncle, Joseph, took a keen in- 
terest in their companion's account of life on the prairies. 
He found that the uncle was engaged in the overland 
trade and was going out to Independence to complete ar- 
rangements for the starting of his wagons with the Santa 
Fe caravan. Finding that they were to be seated at dif- 
ferent tables they had the obliging steward change their 
places so they could be together, and after the meal the 



'ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 231 

uncle begged to be excused and headed for the card room, 
which brought a fleeting frown to the face of his niece. 
Tom observed it without appearing to and led the way to 
some chairs on deck near the rail. 

The blast of the whistle apprised them of a landing in 
sight and soon they picked it out, as much by the great 
piles of firewood as by any other sign. This was the 
little hamlet of St. Charles, and here came on board sev- 
eral plainsmen and voyageurs who, having missed the 
packet at St. Louis, had hastened across the neck of land 
to board it here. As soon as the gangplank touched the 
bank a hurrying line of men depleted the great wood pile, 
and in a few minutes the landing stage swung aboard 
again and the Missouri Belle circled out into mid-channel, 
a stream of sparks falling astern. 

An annoying wind had been blowing when they left the 
parent stream, annoying in a way a stranger to the river 
never would have dreamed. There being no permanence 
to the channels, no fixity to the numerous bars, no accu- 
rate knowledge covering the additions to the terrible, 
destroying snags lurking under the surface, the pilot lit- 
erally had to read his way every yard and to read it anew 
every trip. All he had to go by was the surface of the 
water, and it told him a true tale as long as it was rea- 
sonably placid. From his high elevation he looked down 
into the river and learned from it where the channel lay ; 
and from arrow-head ripples and little, rolling wavelets, 
where the snags were, for every one close enough to the 
surface to merit attention was revealed by the telltale 
"break" on the water. Let a moderate wind blow and 
his task became harder and more of a gamble; but even 
then, knowing that the waves run higher over deeper 



24 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

water, he still could go ahead; but above a certain 
strength the wind not only baffled his reading, but gave 
such a sidewise drift to the shallow-draft, high-riding 
vessel that he could not hope to take it safely through 
some of the narrower channels. Rain or hail, which 
turned the surface into a uniform area of disturbance, 
instantly closed his book ; and in this event he had no re- 
course except to lie snugly moored to the south bank and 
wait until the weather conditions changed. Sometimes 
these waits were for a few hours, sometimes for a day or 
more; and when the persistent southwest prairie gales 
blew day and night, moving great clouds of sand with 
them, the boat remained a prisoner until they ceased or 
abated. 

There was good reason for choosing that south bank, 
for the stronger winds almost invariably came from that 
direction during the navigation season, and the bank gave 
a pleasing protection. While lying moored, idleness in 
progress did not mean idleness all around, for the boilers 
ate up great quantities of wood, and in many cases the 
fuel yards were the growing trees and windfalls on the 
banks. Once the boat was moored the crew leaped 
ashore and became wood-choppers, filling the fuel boxesi 
and stacking the remainder on shore for future use. In 
a pinch green cottonwood sometimes had to be used, but 
it could be burned only by adding pitch or resin. 

Nowhere on the river was a navigation mark, for 
nowhere was the channel permanent enough to allow one 
to be placed. It was primitive, pioneer navigation with a 
vengeance, requiring intelligent, sober, quickwitted and 
courageous men to handle the boats. On the Missouri 
the word *' pilot " was a term of distinction. 



ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 25 

The river was high at this time of the year, caused less 
by the excessive rains and melting snows in the moun- 
tains, being a little early for them, than by the rains along 
the immediate valley; bottom lands were flooded, giving 
the stream a width remarkable in places and adding 
greatly to the amount of drift going down with the cur- 
rent. 

The afternoon waned and the wind died, the latter 
responsible for the pilot's good nature, and the shadows 
of evening grew longer and longer until they died, seem- 
ing to expand into a tenuity which automatically effaced 
them. But sundown was not mooring time, for the twi- 
light along the river often lasted until nine o'clock, and 
not a minute was wasted. 

When St. Charles had been left astern Tom had led 
his companion up onto the hurricane deck and placed two 
chairs ^fgainst the pilot house just forward of the texas, 
where the officers had their quarters. The water was 
now smooth, barring the myriads of whirling, boiling 
eddies, and from their elevated position they could see the 
configuration of the submerged bars. The afterglow in 
the sky turned the mud-colored water into a golden 
sheen, and the wind-distorted trees on the higher banks 
and ridges were weirdly silhouetted against the colored 
sky. Gone was the drab ugliness. The finely lined 
branches of the distant trees, the full bulks of the pines 
and cedars and the towering cottonwoods, standing out 
against the greenery of grass covered hills, provided a 
soft beauty ; while closer to the boat and astern where sky 
reflections were not seen, the great, tawny river slipped 
past with a powerful, compelling, and yet furtive sugges- 
tion of mystery, as well it might. 



26 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Tom was telling of the characteristics of the river 
when the boat veered sharply and caused him to glance 
ahead. A great, tumultuous ripple tore the surface of 
the water, subsided somewhat and boiled anew, the 
wavelets gold and crimson and steel blue against the uni- 
form lavender shad© around them. The many-fanged 
snag barely had been avoided as it reached the upward 
limit of its rhythmic rising and falling. 

Soon a bell rang below and the boat slowed as it 
headed in toward a high, wooded bank. Nudging gently 
against it the packet stopped, men hurried lines ashore, 
made them fast to the trees and then set a spring line, 
which ran from the stern forward to the bank ahead of 
the bow, so as to hold the boat offshore far enough to 
keep it afloat in case the river should fall appreciably 
during the night. The pilot emerged behind them, 
glanced down at the captain overseeing the mooring oper- 
ations, and then spoke to Tom, who made him acquainted 
with Patience and invited him to join them. He gladly 
accepted the invitation and soon had interested listeners 
to his store of knowledge about the river. Darkness now 
had descended and he pointed at the stream. 

" There's somethin' peculiar to th' Missouri," he said. 
" Notice th' glow of th' water, several shades lighter than 
th' darkness on th' bank? On the Mississippi, now, th' 
water after dark only makes th' night all th' blacker; but 
on this stream th' surface can be seen pretty plain, though 
not far ahead. We take full advantage of that when we 
have to sail after dark. We would be goin' on now, 
except that we got news of a new and very bad place a 
little further on, an' we'd rather tackle it when we can see 
good." 



ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 27 

"Oh," murmured Patience. "A ghost road leading 
through a void." 

A long, dark shape appeared on the " ghost road " and 
bore silently and swiftly down upon the boat, struck the 
hull a glancing blow, scraped noisily, ducked under, 
turned partly and scurried off astern. It was a trimmed 
tree trunk, and by its lowness in the water it told of a 
journey nearly ended. Before long one end would sink 
deeper and deeper, finally fastening in the alluvial bot- 
tom and, anchoring securely, lie in wait to play battering 
ram against some ill-fated craft surging boldly against 
the current. 

The lanterns on shore began to move boatward as the 
last of the wooding was finished and the fuel boxes again 
were full. Farther back among the trees some trappers 
had started a fire and were enjoying themselves around 
it, their growing hilarity and noise suggesting a bottle 
being passed too often. Gradually the boat became quiet 
and after another smoke the pilot arose and excused him- 
self, saying that it was expected that the journey would 
be resumed between three and four o'clock in the morn- 
ing. 

"How long will it take us to reach Independence 
Landing?" asked Patience. 

The pilot shook his head. "That depends on wind, 
water, and th' strength of th' current, though th' last 
don't make very much difference sometimes." 

Tom looked up inquiringly. " I don't just understand 
th' last part," he confessed. "Mebby I didn't hear it 
right" 

" Yes, you did," replied the pilot, grinning in the dark- 
ness. "When she's high she's swift; but she's also a 



28 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

hull lot straighten Th' bends of this river are famous, 
an' they add a lot of miles to her length. They also cut 
down th' slant of her surface, which cuts down th' 
strength of th' current. At lower water we'd have a 
longer distance to sail, but a gentler current. When she 
rises like she is now she cuts off, over or behind a lot of 
th' bends an' makes herself a straighter road. An' th' 
shorter she gits, th' steeper her pitch grows, which makes 
a stronger current. She jest reg'lates herself accordin' 
to her needs, an' she gits shet of her floods about as quick 
as any river on earth. Oh, I tell you, she's a cute one; 
an' a mean one, too ! '* 

" She's shore movin' fast enough now," observed 
Tom, watching the hurtling driftwood going spectrally 
down the almost luminous surface. " How long will this 
high water last, anyhow?" 

" Considerable less than th' June rise," answered the 
pilot. "She's fallin' now, which is one of th' reasons 
we're tied to th' bank instid of goin' on all night. This 
here rise is short, but meaner than sin. Th' June rise is 
slower an' not so bad, though it lasts longer. It comes 
from th' rains an' meltin' snow in th' mountains up 
above. Down here th' current ain't as swift as it is 
further up, for this slope is somethin' less than a foot to 
th' mile ; but if it warn't for th' big bottoms, that let some 
of th' water wander around awhile instid of crowdin' 
along all at once, we'd have a current that'd surprise you. 
Jest now I figger she's steppin' along about seven miles 
an hour. Durin' low water it's some'rs around two ; but 
I've seen it nearer ten on some rises. There are places 
where steamboats can't beat th' current an' have to kedge 
up or wait for lower water. About gittin' to Independ- 



ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 29 

ence Landin', or what's left of it, I'll tell you that when 
we pass Liberty Landin'. Miles through th' water ain't 
miles over th' bottom, an' it's th' last that counts. Be- 
sides, th' weather has got a lot to say about our business. 
I hope you ain't gittin' chilled, Miss Cooper, this spring 
air cuts in amazin' after sundown," 

" I am beginning to feel it," she replied, arising, " I'll 
say good night, I believe, and ' turn in.' " 

Tom escorted her to the lower deck and watched her 
cross the cabin and enter her room, for he had no illu- 
sions about some of the men on board. As her door 
closed he wheeled and went to look at the engines, which 
were connected directly to the huge paddle wheel. The 
engineer was getting ready to climb into his bunk, but he 
smoked a pipe with his visitor and chatted for a few min- 
utes. Tom knew what it meant to be an engineer on a 
Missouri river packet and he did not stay long. He knew 
that his host scarcely took his hand from the throttle for 
a moment while the boat was moving, for he had to be 
ready to check her instantly and send her full speed 
astern. The over- worked system of communication be- 
tween the pilot house and the engine room had received 
its share of his attention during his runs on the river. 

He next went forward along the main deck and looked 
at the boilers, the heat from them distinctly pleasing. As 
he turned away he heard and felt the impact from an- 
other great, trimmed log slipping along the faint, gray 
highway. Some careless woodcutter upstream had 
worked in vain. He stopped against the rail and looked 
at the scurrying water only a few feet below him, listen- 
ing to its swishing, burbling complaints as it eddied along 
the hull, seeming in the darkness to have a speed incredi- 



30 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

ble. A huge cottonwood with its upflung branches and 
sunken roots paused momentarily as it struck a shallow 
spot, shivered, lost a snapping dead limb, collected a sur- 
prising amount of debris as it swung slowly around and 
tore free from the clutching mud of the bottom and, once 
more acquiring momentum, shot out of sight into the 
night, its slowly rising branches telling of the heavy roots 
sinking to their proper depth. Next came a tree stump 
like some huge squid, which must have been well dried out 
and not in the water for very long, else it would have 
found the bottom before this. Then a broken and water- 
logged keelboat, fully twenty-five feet long, scurried past, 
a great menace to every boat afloat. Planks, rails from 
some pasture fence, a lean-to outhouse, badly smashed, 
and a great mass of reeds and brush came along like a 
floating island. The constantly changing procession and 
the gray water fascinated him and he fairly had to tear 
himself away from it. Strange splashings along the bank 
told him of undermined portions of it tumbling into the 
river, and a louder splash marked the falling of some 
tree not far above. 

" She's talkin' a-plenty tonight," said a rough voice be- 
hind him and he turned, barely able to make out a figure 
dressed much the same as he was ; but he did not see an- 
other figure, in Mexican garb, standing in the blackness 
against a partition and watching him. The speaker con- 
tinued. " More gentle, this hyar trip ; ye should 'a' heard 
her pow-wowin' th' last run up. I say she's wicked an* 
cruel as airy Injun; an' nothin' stops her." 

"I can't hardly keep away from her," replied Tom, 
easily dropping into the language of the other; "but I 
ain't likin' her a hull lot. A hard trail suits me better." 



"ARMIJO'S STRONG "ARM 511 

" Now yer plumb shoutin'," agreed the other. " If 
'twarn't fer goin' ashore every night, up in th' game 
country, I don't reckon I'd want ter see another steam- 
boat fer th' rest o' my days. Everythin' about 'em is too 
onsartin." 

Tom nodded, understanding that his companion was ai 
hunter employed by the steamboat company to supply the 
boat's table with fresh meat. After the game country, 
which really meant the buffalo range, was reached this 
man went ashore almost every night and hunted until 
dawn or later, always keeping ahead of the boat's mooring 
and within sight of the river after daybreak. Whatever 
he shot he dragged to some easily seen spot on the bank 
for the yawl to pick up, and when the steamboat finally 
overtook him he went aboard by the same means. His 
occupation was hazardous at all times because of the hos- 
tility of the Indians, some few of which, even when their 
tribes were quiet and inclined to be friendly for trade 
purposes, would not refuse a safe opportunity to add a 
white man's scalp to their collection. The tribes along the 
lower sections of the river were safer, but once in the 
country of the Pawnees and Sioux, where his hunting 
really began, it was a far different matter. He did not 
have much of the dangerous country to hunt in because 
the Belle did not go far enough up the river; but the 
hunters on the fur company's boats went through the 
worst of it. 

"Goin' out this spring?" asked the hunter. 

"Yep; Oregon, this time," answered Tom. "My scalp 
ain't safe in Santa Fe no more. Been thar ? " 

" Santa Fe, yep ; Oregon, no. Went to N'Mexico in 
'31, an' we got our fust buffaler jest tother side o' Cot7< 



32 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

tonwood Creek. It war a tough ol' bull. Bet ye won't 
git one thar no more. We forded th' Arkansas at th* 
lower crossin' an' follered th' dry route. Hear thar's a 
track acrost it now, but thar warn't any then. Don't like 
that stretch, nohow. Longest way 'round is th' best f er 
this critter. Ye got Bent's Fort handy ter bust up th' trip, 
git supplies an' likker; an' I'd ruther tackle Raton Pass, 
mean as it is, than cross that cussed dry plain atween th' 
Crossin' an' th' Cimarron. I'd ruther have water than 
empty casks, airy time; an' fur's th' Injuns air consarned, 
'twon't be long afore ye'll have ter fight 'em all th' way 
from th' frontier ter th' Mexican settlements. They'll be 
gittin' wuss every year." 

"Yer talkin' good medicine," replied Tom, thought- 
fully. " 'Twon't be safe f er any caravan ter run inter one 
o' them war parties. Thar cussin' th' whites a'ready, an' 
thar bound ter jine ban's ag'in us when th' buffaler git 
scarce." 

The hunter slapped his thigh and laughed uproariously. 
" Cussed if that ain't a good un ! Why, th' man ain't alive 
that'll live ter see that day. They won't git scarce till 
Kansas is settled solid, an' then there'll have ter be a 
bounty put on 'em ter save th' settlers' crops. Why, 
thar's miles o' 'em, pardner!" 

" I've seen miles o' 'em," admitted Tom ; " but they'll 
go, an' when they once start ter, they'll go so fast that a 
few years will see 'em plumb wiped out." 

" Shucks ! " replied the hunter. " Why, th' wust ene- 
mies they got is th' Injuns an' th' wolves. Both o' them 
will go fust, an' th' buffalers'll git thicker an' thicker." 

"We are thar worst enemies!" retorted Tom with 
spirit, "Th' few th' Injuns kill don't matter — if it did 



ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 331 

they'd 'a* been gone long ago. They only kill fer food 
an' clothin' ; but we kill fer sport an' profit. Every year 
that passes sees more whites on th' buffaler ranges an' 
more hides comin' in ter th' settlements; an' most of 
them hides come from th' cows. Look at th' beaver, 
man \ Thar goin' so fast that in a few years thar won't be 
none left. Thar's only one thing that'll save 'em, an' 
that's a change in hats. Killin' fer sport is bad enough,; 
but when th' killin' is fer profit th' end's shore in sight; 
What do we do? We cut out th' buffaler tongues an' 2L 
few choice bits an' leave th' rest for th' wolves, Th' 
Injuns leave nothin' but th' bones. Why, last trip acrost 
I saw one man come inter camp with sixteen tongues. 
He never even bothered with th' hump ribs ! I told him 
if he done it ag'in an' I saw him, I'd bust his back; an' 
th' hull caravan roared at th' joke!'' 

" Danged if it warn't a good un," admitted the hunter, 
chuckling. "Have ter spring that on th' boys." He 
turned and looked around. "Them fellers on th' bank 
air shore havin' a good time. They got likker enough, 
anyhow. Cussed if it don't sound like a rendezvous! 
Come on, friend : what ye say we jine 'em ? It's too early 
to roll up, an' thar's only card buzzards in th' cabin a-try- 
m' ter pick th' bones o' a -merchant." 

"We might do wuss nor that," replied Tom; "but I 
don't reckon I'll go ashore tonight." 

" Wall, if ye change yer mind ye know th' trail. I'm 
leavin' ye now, afore th' bottles air all empty," and the 
hunter crossed the deck and strode down the gangplank. 

Tom watched the hurrying, complaining water for a 
few moments and then turned to go to the cabin. As hq 
did so something whizzed past him and struck the water; 



54 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

with a hiss. Whirling, he leaped into the shadows under 
the second deck, the new Colt in his hand; but after a 
hot, eager search he had to give it up, and hasten to the 
cabin, to peer searchingly around it from the door. The 
only enemy he had on board to his knowledge was 
Schoolcraft — and then another thought came to him: 
was Armijo reaching out his arm across the prairies? 

Joe Cooper was intent on his game; Schoolcraft and 
the Mexican trader were taking things easy at a table in 
a corner, and both had their knives at their belts. They 
did not give him more than a passing glance, although 
a frown crept across the Independence horse-dealer's 
evil face. Seating himself where he could watch all the 
doors, Tom tried to solve the riddle while he waited to 
scrutinize anyone entering the cabin. At last he gave up 
the attempt to unravel the mystery and turned his atten- 
tion to the card game, and was surprised to see that it 
was being played with all the safeguards of an established 
gambling house. Having a friend in the game he watched 
the dealer and the case-keeper, but discovered nothing to 
repay him for his scrutiny. An hour later the game broke 
up and Joe Cooper, cashing in his moderate winnings, 
arose and joined Tom and suggested a turn about the 
deck before retiring. Tom caught a furtive exchange of 
fleeting and ironical glances between the case-keeper and 
the dealer, but thought little of it. He shrugged his 
shoulders and followed his new friend toward the door. 

Ephriam Schoolcraft, somewhat the worse for liquor, 
made a slighting remark as the two left the cabin, but it 
was so well disguised that it provided no real peg on 
which to hang a quarrel; and Tom kept on toward the 
ideck, the horse-dealer's nasty laugh ringing in his ears. 



ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM ^ 

He could see where he was going to have trouble, but he 
hoped it would wait until Independence was reached, for 
always there were the makings of numerous quarrels on 
board under even the best of conditions, and he deter- 
mined to overlook a great deal before starting one on his 
own account. It was his wish that nothing should mar 
the pleasure of the trip up the river for Patience Cooper. 

He and his companion stopped in the bow and looked 
at the merry camp on shore, both sensing an undertone of 
trouble. Give the vile, frontier liquor time to work in 
such men and anything might be the outcome. 

He put his lips close to his companion's ear : " Mr. 
Cooper, did you notice anyone hu^ry into the cabin just 
before I came in? Anyone who seemed excited and in a 
hurry?" 

Cooper considered a moment : " No," he replied. " I 
would have seen any such person. Something wrong?" 

"Schoolcraft, now; and that Mexican friend of his," 
prompted Tom. "Did they leave the cabin before you 
saw me come in?" 

" No ; they both were where you saw them for an hour 
or two before you showed up. I'm dead certain of that 
because of the interest Schoolcraft seemed to be taking 
in me. I don't know why he should single me out for his 
attentions, for he don't look like a gambler. I never saw 
him before that little fracas you had with him on the 
levee. Something up ? " 

" No," slowly answered Tom. " I was just wondering 
about something." 

"Nope; he was there all the time," the merchant 
assured him. " Seems to me I heard about some trouble 
you had in Santa Fe last year. Anything serious ? " 



B6 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

" Nothing more than a personal quarrel. I happened 
to get there after they had started McLeod's Texans on 
the way to Mexico City, and learned that they had been 
captured." He clenched his fists and scowled into the 
night. " One of the pleasant things I learned from a man 
who saw it, was the execution of Baker and Howland. 
Both shot in the back. Baker was not killed, so a Mexi- 
can stepped up and shot him through the heart as he lay 
writhing on the ground. The dogs tore their bodies to 
pieces that night." He gripped the railing until the blood 
threatened to burst from his finger tips. " I learned the 
rest of it, and the worst, a long time later." 

Cooper turned and stared at him. "Why, man, that 
was in October ! Late in October ! How could you have 
been there at that time, and here, in this part of the coun- 
try, now ? You couldn't cross the prairies that late in the 
year ! " 

"No; I wintered at Bent's Fort," replied Tom. "I 
hadn't been in Independence a week before I took the 
boat down to St. Louis, where you first saw me. There 
were four of us in the party and we had quite a time 
making it. Well, reckon I'll be turning in. See you to- 
morrow." 

He walked rapidly toward the cabin, glanced in and 
then went to his quarters. Neither Schoolcraft nor the 
Mexican were to be seen, for they were in the former's 
stateroom with a third man, holding a tense and whis- 
pered conversation. The horse-dealer apparently did not 
agree with his two companions, for he kept doggedly 
shaking his head and reiterating his contentions in 
drunken stubbornness that, no matter what had been 
overheard, Tom Boyd was not going to Oregon, but back 



ARMIJO'S STRONG ARM 37 

to Santa Fe. He mentioned Patience Cooper several 
times and insisted that he was right. While his com- 
panions were not convinced that they were wrong they, 
nevertheless, agreed that there should be no more knife 
throwing until they knew for certain that the young 
hunter was not going over the southwest trail. 

Schoolcraft leered into the faces of his friends. " You 
jest wait an' see ! " He wagged a finger at them. " Th' 
young fool is head over heels in love with her ; an' he'll 
find it out afore she jines th' Santa Fe waggin train. 
Whar she goes, he'll go. I'm drunk; but I ain't so drunk 
I don't know that!" 



CHAPTER IV 

I'OM CHANGES HIS PLANS 

DAWN broke dull and cold, but without much wind, 
and when Tom awakened he heard the churning of 
the great paddle wheel, the almost ceaseless jangling of 
the engine room bell and the complaining squeaks of the 
hard-worked steering gear. A faint whistle sounded 
from up river, was answered by the Missouri Belle, and 
soon the latter lost headway while the two pilots ex- 
changed their information concerning the river. Again 
the paddles thumped and thrashed and the boat shook as 
it gathered momentum. 

On deck he found a few early risers, wrapped in coats 
and blankets against the chill of the morning hour. The 
overcast sky was cold and forbidding; the boiling, scur- 
rying surface of the river, sullen and threatening. Going 
up to the hurricane deck he poked his head in the pilot 
house. 

" Come on in," said the pilot. " We won't go fur to- 
day. See that?" 

Tom nodded. The small clouds of sand were easily 
seen by eyes such as his and as he nodded a sudden gust 
tore the surface of the river into a speeding army of 
wavelets. 

" Peterson jest hollered over an' said Clay Point's an 
island now, an' that th' cut-off is bilin' like a rapids. 
Told me to look out for th' whirlpool. They're bad, 
sometimes.'* 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 39 

" To a boat like this ? " asked Tom in surprise. 

"Yep. We give 'em all a wide berth." The wheel 
rolled over quickly and the V-shaped, tormented ripple 
ahead swung away from the bow. " That's purty nigh to 
th' surface," commented the pilot. "Jest happened to 
swing up an' show its break in time. Hope we kin git 
past Clay before th' wind drives us to th' bank. Look 
there!" 

A great, low-lying cloud of sand suddenly rose high 
into the air like some stricken thing, its base riven and 
torn into long streamers that whipped and writhed. The 
gliding water leaped into short, angry waves, which bore 
down on the boat with remarkable speed. As the blast 
struck the Missouri Belle she quivered, heeled a bit, 
slowed momentarily, and then bore into it doggedly, but 
her side drift was plain to the pilot's experienced eyes. 

"We got plenty o' room out here fer sidin'," he ob- 
served; "but 'twont be long afore th' water'll look th' 
same all over. We're in fer a bad day." As he spoke 
gust after gust struck the water, and he headed the boat 
into the heavier waves. "Got to keep to th' deepest 
water now," he explained. "Th' snags' telltales are 
plumb wiped out. I shore wish we war past Clay. There 
ain't a decent bank ter lie ag'in this side o' it." 

For the next hour he used his utmost knowledge of the 
river, which had been developed almost into an instinct; 
and then he rounded one of the endless bends and 
straightened out the course with Clay Point half a mile 
ahead. 

" Great Jehovah ! " he muttered. " Look at Clay ! " 

The jutting point, stripped bare of trees, was cut as 
clean as though some great knife had sliced it. Under its 



40 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

new front the river had cut in until, as they looked, the 
whole face of the bluff slid down into the stream, a slice 
twenty feet thick damming the current and turning it into 
a raging fury. Some hundreds of yards behind the 
doomed point the muddy torrent boiled and seethed 
through its new channel, vomiting trees, stumps, brush 
and miscellaneous rubbish in an endless stream. Off the 
point, and also where the two great currents came to- 
gether again behind it two great whirlpools revolved with 
sloping surfaces smooth as ice, around which swept drift- 
wood with a speed not unlike the horses of some great 
merry-go-round. The vortex of the one off the point 
was easily ten feet below the rim of its circumference, 
and the width of the entire affair was greater than the 
length of the boat. A peeled log, not quite water-soaked, 
reached the center and arose as vertical as a plumb line, 
swayed in short, quick circles and then dove from sight. 
A moment later it leaped from the water well away from 
the pool and fell back with a smack which the noise of 
the wind did not drown. To starboard was a rhythmic 
splashing of bare limbs, where a great cottonwood, partly 
submerged, bared its fangs. To the right of that was a 
towhead, a newly formed island of mud and sand partly 
awash. 

The pilot cursed softly and jerked on the bell handle, 
the boat instantly falling into half speed. He did not dare 
to cut across the whirlpool, the snag barred him dead 
ahead, and it was doubtful if there was room to pass be- 
tween it and the towhead; but he had no choice in the 
matter and he rang again, the boat falling into bare steer- 
age way. If he ran aground he would do so gently and no 
harm would be done. So swift was the current that the 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 41! 

moment he put the wheel over a few spokes and shifted 
the angle between the keel-line and the current direction, 
the river sent the craft sideways so quickly that before he 
had stopped turning the wheel in the first direction he 
had to spin it part way back again. The snag now lay to 
port, the towhead to starboard, and holding a straight 
course the Missouri Belle crept slowly between them. 
There came a slight tremor, a gentle lifting to port, and 
he met it by a quick turn of the wheel. For a moment 
the boat hung pivoted, its bow caught by a thrusting side 
current and slowly swinging to port and the snag. A 
hard yank on the bell handle was followed by a sudden 
forward surge, a perceptible side-slip, a gentle rocking, 
and the bow swung back as the boat, entirely free again, 
surged past both dangers. 

The pilot heaved a sigh of relief. " Peterson didn't say 
nothin' about th' snag or th' towhead," he growled. Then 
he grinned. " I bet he rounded inter th' edge o' th' whirler 
afore he knowed it was thar! Now that I recollect it 
he did seem a mite excited." 

" Somethin' like a boy explorin' a cave, an' comin' face 
to face with a b'ar," laughed Tom. " I recken you fellers 
don't find pilotin' monotonous." 

" Thar ain't no two trips alike ; might say no two miles, 
up or down, trip after trip. Here comes th' rain, an' by 
buckets; an' thar's th' place I been a-lookin' fer. Th' 
bank's so high th' wind won't hardly tech us." 

He signaled for half speed and then for quarter and 
the boat no sooner had fallen into the latter than her bow 
lifted and she came to a grating stop. The crew, which 
had kept to shelter, sprang forward without a word and 
as the captain crossed the bow deck the great spars were 



BRING ME HIS EARS' 



being hauled forward. After the reversed paddles had 
shown the Belle to be aground beyond their help, the 
spars were put to work and it was not long before they 
pushed her off again, and a few minutes later she nosed 
against the bank. 

The pilot sighed and packed his pipe. "Thar!" he 
said, explosively. "Hyar we air, an' we ain't a-goin* 
on ag'in till we kin see th' channel. No, sir, not if we 
has ter stay hyar a week ! " 

Tom led the way below and paused at the foot of the 
companionway as he caught sight of Patience. He 
glowed slightly as he thought that she had been waiting 
for him ; and when he found that she had not yet entered 
the cabin for breakfast, the glow became quite pro- 
nounced. He had seen many pretty girls and had grown 
up with them, but the fact that she was pretty was not 
the thing which made her so attractive to him. There was 
a softness in her speaking voice, a quiet dignity and a cer- 
tain reserve, so honest that it needed no affectations to 
make it sensed ; and under it all he felt that there was a 
latent power of will that would make panicky fears and 
actions impossible in her. And he never had perceived 
such superb defenses against undue familiarity, superb 
in their unobtrusiveness, which to him was proof of their 
sincerity and that they were innate characteristics. He 
felt that she could repel much more effectively without 
showing any tangible signs of it than could any woman 
he ever had met. He promised himself that the study of 
her nature would not be neglected, and he looked for- 
ward to it with eagerness. There was, to him, a charm 
about her so complex, so subtle that it almost completed 
the circle and became simple and apparent. 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 43- 

She smiled slightly and acknowledged his bow as he 
approached her. 

"Good morning, Miss Cooper. Have you and your 
uncle breakfasted ? " 

"Not yet," she answered, turning toward the cabin. 
" I think he is waiting for us. Shall we go in? " 

The plural form of the personal pronoun sent a slight 
thrill through him as he opened the door for her, showed 
her to the table, and seated her so that she faced the wide 
expanse of the river. 

" I imagined that I felt bumps against the boat some- 
time during the night," she remarked. She looked in- 
quiringly at Tom and her uncle. "Did we strike any- 
thing?" 

"Why," Tom answered in simulated surprise, "no 
one said anything about it to me, and I've been with the 
pilot almost since dawn. The whole fact of the matter 
is that this river's dangers are much over-estimated, con- 
sidering that boats of thirty feet and under have been 
navigating it since before the beginning of this century. 
And they had no steam to help them, neither." 

Uncle Joe appeared to be very preoccupied and took 
no part in the conversation. 

"I have heard uncle and father speak many times 
about the great dangers attending the navigation of the 
Missouri," she responded, smiling enigmatically, and 
flashing her uncle a keen, swift glance. " They used to 
dwell on it a great deal before father went out to Santa 
Fe. So many of their friends were engaged in steamboat 
navigation that it was a subject of deep interest to them 
both, and they seemed to be very well informed about it." 
She laughed lightly and again glanced at her uncle. " Since 



44 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

uncle learned that I might have to make the trip he has 
talked in quite a different strain; but he did suggest, 
somewhat hopefully, that we put up with the discomforts 
of the overland route and make the trip in a wagon. 
Don't you believe, Mr. Boyd, that knowledge of possible 
dangers might be a good thing ? " 

Uncle Joe gulped the last of his watery coffee, pushed 
back, and arose. "Want to see the captain," he said. 
" Meet you two later on deck," and he lost no time in get- 
ting out of the cabin. 

" Well," came the slow and careful answer from Tom, 
" so many of us pass numerous dangers in our daily lives, 
unknown, unsuspected, that we might have a much less 
pleasant existence if we knew of them. If they are dan- 
gers that we could guard against, knowledge of them cer- 
tainly would be a good thing." 

She nodded understandingly and looked out over the 
tawny, turbulent flood, then leaned forward quickly; and 
her companion did not lose this opportunity to admire her 
profile. Coming down the stream like an arrow, with a 
small square sail set well forward, was a keelboat, its hide- 
protected cargo rising a foot or more above the gunwale 
amidships. Standing near the mast was a lookout, 
holding fast to it, and crouched on top of the cargo, the 
long, extemporized addition to the tiller grasped firmly in 
both hands, was the patron, or captain. Sitting against 
the rear bulkhead of the hold and facing astern were 
several figures covered with canvas and hides, the best 
shift the crew could make against the weather. The 
French-Canadian at the mast waved his hand, stopping 
his exultant song long enough to shout a bon voyage to 
the steamboat as he shot past, and the little boat darted 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 45 

from their sight into the rain and the rolling vapor of the 
river like a hunted rabbit into a tangle of briars. 

" That's splendid ! " she exclaimed, an exultant lilt in 
her voice. "That's the spirit of this western country: 
direct, courageous, steadfast! Can't you feel it, Mr. 
Boyd?" 

His eyes shone and he leaned forward over the table 
with a fierce eagerness. In that one moment he had 
-caught a glimpse into the heart and soul of Patience 
Cooper that fanned fiercely the flame already lighted in 
his heart. His own feelings about the West, the almost 
tearful reverence which had possessed him at the sight of 
those pioneer women, many with babes at their breasts, 
that he daily had seen come into Independence from the 
East to leave it on the West, the hardships past great 
enough to give pause to men of strength, but not shaking 
their calm, quiet determination to face greater to the end 
of that testing trail, and suffer privations in a vast wil- 
derness ; his feelings, his hopes, his faith, had come back 
to him in those few words almost as though from some 
spirit mirror. He choked as he fought to master himself 
and to speak with a level voice. 

"Feel it?" he answered, his voice shaking. "I feel it 
sometimes until the sheer joy of it hurts me ! Wait until 
you stand on the outskirts of Independence facing the 
sunset, and see those wagons, great and small, plodding 
with the insistent determination of a wolverine to the dis- 
tant rendezvous! Close your eyes and picture that ren- 
dezvous, the caravan slowly growing by the addition of 
straggling wagons from many feeding roads. Wait until 
you stand on the edge of that trail, facing the west, with 
rainbows in the mist of your eyes ! Oh, Miss Cooper, I 



46 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

can't — but perhaps we'd better go on deck and see what 
the weather promises." 

She did not look at him, but as she arose her hand for 
one brief instant rested Hghtly on his outflung arm, and 
set him aquiver with an ecstatic agony that hurt even 
while it glorified him. He shook his head savagely, rose 
and led the way to the door ; and only the moral fiber and 
training passed on to him through generations of gentle- 
men kept him from taking her in his arms and smothering 
her with kisses; and in his tense struggle to hold him- 
self in check he did not realize that such an indiscretion 
might have served him well and that such a moment 
might never come again. Holding open the door until 
she had passed through, he closed it behind them and 
stumbled intO' a whirling gust of rain that stung and 
chilled him to a better mastery of himself. Opportunity 
had knocked in vain. 

" Our friends, the pilots, will not be good company on 
a day like this," he said, gripping the rail and interposing 
his body between her and the gusts. " The gangplank's 
out, but there seems to be a lack of warmth in its invita- 
tion. Suppose we go around on the other side ? " 

On the river side of the boat they found shelter against 
the slanting rain and were soon comfortably seated 
against the cabin wall, wrapped in the blankets he had 
coaxed from his friend, the purser, 

" Just look at that fury of wind and water ! " ex- 
claimed Patience. "I wonder where that little keelboat 
is by now ? " 

" Oh, it's scooting along like a sled down an icy slope," 
he answered, hoping that it had escaped the hungry maw 
of the great whirlpool off Clay Point. " They must have: 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 47 

urgent reasons for driving ahead like that. It must be an 
express from the upper Missouri posts to St. Louis. Mc- 
Kenzie probably wants to get word to Chouteau before 
the fur company's steamboat starts up the river. Or it 
may be the urging of the thrill that comes with gambling 
with death." 

Behind them Uncle Joe poked his head out of the cabin 
door and regarded them curiously. Satisfied that trou- 
blesome topics no longer were being discussed he moved 
forward slowly. 

" Oh, here you are," he said, as though making a dis- 
covery. " I thought I might find you out here. Captain 
Newell ain't fit company for a savage wolf this morning. 
Have you heard how long we're going to be tied up ? " 

Tom drew a chair toward him and looked up invit- 
ingly. " Sit down, Mr. Cooper. Why, I understand we 
will stay here all day and night." He understood the 
other man's restlessness and anxiety about the wait, but 
did not sympathize with him. The longer they were in 
making the river-run the better he would be suited. 

Uncle Joe glanced out over the wild water, " Oh, well,'* 
he sighed. "If we must, then we must. That river's 
quite a sight ; looks a lot worse than it is. Hello ! What's 
our reverend friend doing down there? Living in the 
hold? " He chuckled. " If he is, it's a poor day to come 
up for air." 

They followed his glance and beheld a tall, austere, 
long-faced clergyman emerging from the forward hatch, 
and behind him came the pilot with whom they had 
talked the evening before. When both had reached the 
deck and stepped out of the rain the clergyman shook his 
head stubbornly and continued his argument. 



48 ''BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

" I was told to come up on this packet and examine her 
•carefully on the way," he asserted, doggedly. "Liquor 
in vast quantities has been getting past both Fort 
Leavenworth and Bellevue; and while the military in- 
spectors may be lax, or worse, that is an accusation which 
-cannot truthfully be brought against us at the upper 
•agency. If I am not given honest assistance in the prose- 
cution of my search, your captain may experience a delay 
.at our levee that will not be to his liking. It's all the 
same to me, for if it isn't found on our way up, it will 
be found after we reach the agency." 

"But, my reverend sir!" replied the pilot, in poorly 
hidden anger, "you've been from one end of th' hold to 
th' other ! You've crawled 'round like a worm, stuck yore 
nose an' fingers inter everythin' thar war to stick 'em in ; 
you've sounded th' flour barrels with a wipin'-stick, an' 
jabbed it inter bags an' bales. Bein' a government in- 
spector we've had ter let ye do it, whether we liked it or 
not. I've got no doubts th' captain will be glad ter take 
down th' engines, rip open th' bilers, slit th' stacks an' 
mebby remove th' plankin' of th' hull; but — air ye 
listenin' close, my reverend sir? If ye try ter git me ter 
guide ye around in that thar hold ag'in, I'll prove ter ye 
that th' life o' a perfect Christian leads ter martyrdom. 
Jest ram that down yore skinny neck, an' be damned ter 
ye!" 

" I will not tolerate such language ! " exclaimed the in- 
dignant shepherd. " I shall report you, sir ! " 

" You kin report an' be damned ! " retorted the angry 
pilot. " Yo're too cussed pious to be real. What's that 
a-stickin' outer yer pocket?" 

The inspector felt quickly of the pocket indicated and 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 49 

pulled out a half -pint flask of liquor, and stared at it in 
stupefaction. " Why — I " 

" Yer a better actor than ye air a preacher," sneered 
the pilot, glancing knowingly from the planted bottle 
around the faces of the crowd which had quickly assem- 
bled. *' O' course, you deal in precepts ; but they'd be a 
cussed sight more convincin' fer a few examples along 
with 'em. Good day, my reverend sir!" 

The frocked inspector, tearing his eyes from the accus- 
ing bottle and trying to close his mouth, gazed after the 
swaggering pilot and then around the circle of grinning 
faces. A soft laugh from above made him glance up to 
where Patience and her companions were thoroughly 
enjoying the episode. 

" Parson, I'll have a snorter with ye," said a bewhis- 
kered bullwhacker, striding eagerly forward, his hand 
outstretched. " Go good on a mornin' like this." 

" Save some fer me, brother," called a trapper, his keen 
eyes twinkling. " Alius reckoned you fellers war sort o' 
baby-like; but thar's th' makin' o' a man in you." He 
grinned. " 'Sides, we dassn't let all that likker git up ter 
th' Injuns." 

" Shucks ! " exclaimed a raw-boned Missourian. 
"That's only a sample he's takin' up ter Bellevue. He 
ain't worryin' none about a little bottle like that, not with 
th' bar'ls they got up thar. What you boys up thar do 
with all th' likker ye take off 'n th' boats ? Nobody ever 
saw none o' it go back down th' river." 

The baited inspector hurled the bottle far out into the 
stream and tried to find a way out of the circle, but he 
was not allowed to break through. 

"You said somethin' about Leavenworth bein' care- 



so ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

less, or wuss," said a soldier who was going up to that 
post. " We use common sense, up than Thar's as much 
likker gits past th' agencies on th' land side as ever tried 
ter git past on th' river. Every man up-bound totes as 
much o' it as he kin carry. Th' fur company uses judg- 
ment in passin' it out, fer it don't want no drunken In- 
juns; but th' free traders don't care a rip. If th' 
company ain't got it, then th' Injuns trade whar they kin 
git it; an' that means they'll git robbed blind, an' bilin' 
drunk in th' bargain. If I had my way, they'd throw th' 
hull kit of ye in th' river." 

"That's right," endorsed a trapper, chuckling, and 
slapping the inspector on the back with hearty strength. 
"You hold this hyar boat to th' bank at Bellevue jest as 
long as ye kin, parson. It makes better time than th' 
boys goin' over th' land, an' 'tain't fair ter th' boys. 
Think ye kin hold her a hull week, an' give my pardners 
a chanct ter beat her ter th' Mandan villages?" He 
looked around, grinning. "Them Injuns must have a 
hull passel o' furs a-waitin' fer th' first trader." 

"What's th' trouble here?" demanded the captain, 
pushing roughly through the crowd. "What's th' 
trouble ? " 

"Nothing but the baiting of a government inspector 
and a wearer of the cloth," bitterly answered the encir- 
cled minister. 

" Oh," said the captain, relieved. " Wall, ye git as ye 
give. Are ye through with th' hold ? " 

The inspector sullenly regarded him. "I think so," 
he answered. 

The captain wheeled to one of the crew. "Joe, throw 
on that hatch, lock it, and keep it locked until we get to 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 51 

Bellevue," he snapped. "We're ready to comply with 
government regulations, at the proper time and place. 
You and your friends can root around all you want after 
we get to Bellevue. The next time I find you in the hold 
with a lighted candle I'll take it away from you and lock 
you in there." He turned, ordered the crowd to disperse 
and went back to the texas. 

It was an old story, this struggle to get liquor past the 
posts to the upper Missouri, and there were tricks as yet 
untried. From the unexpected passage of this up-bound 
inspector, going out to his station at the agency, and his 
officious nosings, it was believed by many that any licjuor 
on board would not have a chance to get through. And 
why should the Belle be carrying it, since her destination 
and turning point was Bellevue ? 

" Is it true that liquor is smuggled up the river? " asked 
Patience as the inspector became lost to sight below. 

Her companions laughed in unison. 

"They not only try to get it up," answered Tom, "but 
they succeed. I've been watching that sour-faced parson 
on his restless ramblings about the boat, and I knew at 
once that there must be a game on. Sometimes their 
information is correct. However, I'll back the officers 
of this packet against him, any time." 

"I'm afraid you'd win your bet, Mr. Boyd," choked 
the uncle. 

"Uncle Joe! What do you know about it?" asked 
his niece accusingly. 

"Nothing, my dear; not a single thing!" he expostu- 
lated, raising his hands in mock horror, his eyes resting 
on three new yawls turned bottomside up on the deck 
near the bow. He mentally pictured the half-dozen bull- 



52 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

boats stowed on the main deck near the stern, each capable 
of carrying two tons if handled right, and he shook with 
laughter. This year the fur company's boat carried no 
liquor and its captain would insist on a most thorough 
inspection at Bellevue; but the fur posts on the upper 
river would be overjoyed by what she would bring to 
them. After the inspection she would proceed on her 
calm way, and tie against the bank at a proper distance 
above the agency; just as the Belle would spend a night 
against the bank at a proper distance below Bellevue ; and 
what the latter would run ashore after midnight, when 
the inquisitive minister was deep in sleep, would be 
smuggled upstream in the smaller boats during the dark 
of the night following, and be put aboard the fur boat 
above. 

"Uncle Joe!" said his niece. "You know some- 
thing!" 

"God help the man that don't!" snorted her uncle. 
"Look there!" 

A heavily loaded Mackinaw boat had shot around the 
next bend. It was of large size, nearly fifty feet long 
and a dozen wide. In the bow were four men at the 
great oars and in the stern at the tiller was the patron, 
singing in lusty and not unpleasant voice and in mixed 
French and English, a song of his own composing. 

Patience put a finger to her lips and enjoined silence, 
leaning forward to catch the words floating across the 
turbulent water, and to her they sounded thus : 

" Mon pere Baptiste for Pierre Chouteau 
He zvork lak dam in le ol' bateau; 

From Union down le oV Missou 
Lak chased, by gar, by carcajou. 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 53 

*'Le coiireurs des bois, le voyageur, too. 
He nevaire work so hard, mon Dieu, 

Lak Baptist e pete an' Baptist e fits, 
Coureurs avant on le ol' Missou. 

** McKenzie say: ' Baptist e Ladeaiix, 
Thees lettaire you mus' geeve Chouteau; 

Vous are one dam fine voyageur — 
So hurry down le oV Missou. 

"Go get vous fils an' vous chapeau, 
You mebby lak Mackinaw bateau' — 

Lak that he say, lak one dam day 
Le voyage weel tak to ol' St. Lou!" 

As the square stern of the fur-laden boat came opposite 
the packet the mercurial patron stopped his song and 
shouted : " Levez les perches! " and the four oars rose 
from the water and shot into the air, vertical and rigid. 
The pilot of the steamboat, chancing to be in the pilot 
house, blew a series of short blasts in recognition, causing 
the engineer to growl something about wasting his steam. 
The crew of the Mackinaw boat arose and cheered, the 
patron firing his pistol into the air. Gay vocal exchanges 
took place between the two boats, and the patron, catch- 
ing sight of Patience, placed a hand over his heart and 
bowed, rattling off habitant French. She waved in reply 
and watched the boat forge ahead under the thrust of 
the perfectly timed oars. 

" Mackinaw boat," said Tom, " and in a hurry. There's 
the express. There is a belief on the river that the square 
stem of those boats gives them a speed in rapids greater 
than that of the current. They are very safe and handy 
for this kind of navigation, and well built by skilled 



54 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

artisans at the boat yards of the principal trading posts 
up the river. They are a great advance over the bullboat, 
which preceded them." 

"And which are still in use, makeshifts though they 
are," said Captain Newell as he stopped beside them. 
**But you can't beat the bullboat for the purpose for 
which it was first made ; that of navigating the shallower 
streams. I thought you would be glad to know that we 
expect to be under way again early in the morning. But, 
speaking of bullboats, did you ever see one, Miss 
Cooper?" 

" I've had them pointed out to me at St. Louis, but at 
a distance," she answered. "Somehow they did not 
impress me enough to cause me to remember what they 
looked like." 

"Why, I'll show you some," offered Tom eagerly. 
" There's half a dozen on the main deck." 

Uncle Joe squirmed as he glanced around, and arose 
to leave for the card room, but the captain smiled and 
nodded. 

" Yes, that's so, Mr. Boyd. Take a look at them when 
the rain lets up. We're always glad to carry a few of 
them back up the river, for we find them very handy in 
lightering cargo in case we have mean shallows that can 
be crossed in no other way. You'd be surprised how 
little water this boat draws after its cargo is taken 
ashore." 

"But why do they call them bullboats?" asked 
Patience. 

"They're named after the hides of the bull buffalo, 
which are used for the covering," explained the captain. 
"First a bundle of rather heavy willow poles are fash- 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 55 

ioned into a bottom and bound together with rawhide. 
To this other and more slender willow poles are fastened 
by their smaller ends and curved up and out to make the 
ribs. Then two heavy poles are bent on each side from 
stem to stern and lashed to the ends of the ribs, forming 
the gunwale. Everything is lashed with rawhide and 
not a bolt or screw or nail is used. Hides of buffalo bulls, 
usually prepared by the Indians, although the hunters and 
trappers can do the work as well, are sewn together with 
sinew after being well soaked. They are stretched tightly 
over the frame and lashed securely to the gun'le, and 
they dry tight as drumheads and show every rib. Then a 
pitch of buffalo tallow and ashes is Vv/'orked into the seams 
and over every suspicious spot on the hides and the boat 
is ready. Usually a false flooring of loosely laid willow 
poles, three or four inches deep, is placed in the bottom 
to prevent the water, which is sure to leak in, from wet- 
ting the cargo. In the morning the boat rides high and 
draws only a few inches of water; but often at night 
there may be six or eight inches slopping around inside. 
I doubt if any other kind of a boat can be used very far 
up on the Platte, and sometimes even bullboats can't go 
up." 

" How was it that the fur company's boat was tied at 
the levee at St. Louis, after we left?" asked Tom. 
"Rather late for her, isn't it?" 

" Yes, it is," answered the captain. " The great event 
on this river has always been the annual up-stream fur 
packet. She is coming along somewhere behind us, and 
very likely will pass us before we reach the mouth of 
the Kaw. They take bigger chances with the river than 
we do because they've got to get up to Fort Union and 



56 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

away again while there's water enough." He looked at 
Patience. " Are you going far, Miss Cooper? " he asked, 
anxious to get the conversation into channels more to his 
liking, 

"Santa Fe, captain," she answered as placidly as 
though it were a shopping trip from her home to the 
downtown stores of St. Louis. 

" Well, well ! " he exclaimed, as if he had not known it 
"That will be quite an undertaking!" 

Tom Boyd was staring at her aghast, doubting his 
ears. The slowly changing expression on his face caught 
her attention and she smiled at him. 

"You look as if you had seen a ghost, Mr. Boyd," 
she laughed. 

" I'm going to do my very best not to see one. Miss 
Cooper; or let anyone else see one," he answered mys- 
teriously. " I am glad that I, too, am bound for Santa 
Fe. It is a great surprise and pleasure to learn that you 
are going over the same trail." 

" Why, didn't you say that you were going over the 
Oregon Trail this year ? " she quickly asked. " At least, 
J understood you that way." 

"I often let my enthusiasm run away with me," he 
answered. " Much as I would like to go out to Oregon 
I will have to wait until my affairs will permit me to 
follow my inclination. You see, I've made two trips to 
Santa Fe, it has got into my blood, and there are reasons 
why I must go over that trail again. And then, knowing 
the trail so well, it is possible that I can make very good 
arrangements this year. But isn't it a most remarkable 
coincidence ? " 

"Very," drily answered the captain. "By the way. 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 57 

Mr. Boyd : you and Mr. Cooper seem to be quite friendly, 
and neither of you waste much time in the company of 
your present roommates. Seeing that you are both 
bunked with strangers, how would it suit you if I put 
you together in the same room? Good: then I'll speak 
to Mr. Cooper, and if it's agreeable to him I'll have the 
change made. Sorry to tear myself awa}?- from you two, 
but I must be leaving now." He bowed and stepped 
into the cabin, smiling to himself. He distinctly remem- 
bered his conversation with the young man, only the day 
before, when Tom had assured him with great earnestness 
that he no longer could resist the call of the emigrant 
trail and that he was going to follow it with the first 
outgoing caravan. The captain was well pleased by the 
change in the young man's plans, for he knew that the 
niece of his old friend would be safer on her long journey 
across the plains if Tom Boyd was a member of the 
caravan. He turned his steps toward the gaming tables 
to find her uncle, whom he expected would be surrounded 
by the members of a profession which Joe Cooper had 
forsaken many years before for a more reputable means 
of earning a living. 

The reputation of "St. Louis Joe" was known to 
almost everyone but his niece; and the ex-gambler was 
none too sure that she did not know it. While his name 
was well-known, there were large numbers of gamblers 
on both rivers, newcomers to the streams, who did not 
know him by sight; and it was his delight to play the 
part of an innocent and unsuspecting merchant and watch 
them try to fleece him. Not one of the professionals on 
the Missouri Belle knew he was playing against a man 
who could tutor him in the finer points of his chosen 



58 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

art; but by this time they had held a conference or two 
in a vain attempt to figure why their concerted efforts 
had borne bitter fruit. One of them, smarting over his 
moderate, but annoyingly persistent losses, was beginning 
to get ugly. While his pocketbook was lightly touched, 
his pride was raw and bleeding. Elias Stevens was 
known as a quick-tempered man whom it were well not 
to prod ; and Joseph Cooper was prodding him again and 
again, and appearing to take a quiet but deep satisfaction 
in the operation. At first Stevens had hungered only for 
the large sum of money his older adversary had shown 
openly and carelessly; but now it was becoming second- 
ary, and the desire for revenge burning in Stevens was 
making him more and more reckless in his play. 

The careless way in which Joe Cooper had shown his 
money to arouse the avarice of the gamblers had awak- 
ened quick interest in others outside the fraternity, and 
other heads were planning other ways of getting posses- 
sion of it. Two men iri particular, believing that the 
best chance of stealing it was while the owner of it was 
on the boat, decided to make the attempt on this night 
If the boat should remain tied to the bank their escape 
would be easy; and if it started before daylight they 
could make use of the yawl, which was towed most of 
the time, and always during a run after dark. 

Captain Newell looked in at the gambling tables and 
did not see his friend, but as he turned to look about the 
upper end of the cabin he caught sight of him coming 
along the deck, and stepped out to wait for him. 

" Looking for me ? " asked Uncle Joe, smiling. 

" Yes ; want to tell you that your young friend Boyd 
has changed his mind and is going out to Santa Fe to 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS 59 

look after his numerous interests there. Ordinarily I 
would keep my mouth shut, but I know his father and 
the whole family, and no finer people live in St. Louis. 
Who have you in mind to go in charge of your wagons ? " 

Uncle Joe scratched his chin reflectively. " Well, I'd 
thought of Boyd and was kinda sorry he was going out 
over the other trail. I'll keep my eyes on the scamp. 
Strikes me he'd take my wagons through for his keep, 
under the circumstances ! He-he-he ! Changed his mind, 
has he? D — d if I blame him; I'd 'a' gone farther'n 
that, at his age, for a girl like Patience. How about a 
little nip, for good luck ? " 

"Not now. How would you like to change sleeping 
partners?" asked the captain, quickly explaining the 
matter. 

" First rate idea; th' partner I got now spends most of 
his nights scratching. Better shift me instead of him, 
or Boyd'll get cussed little sleep in that bunk." 

Captain Newell leaned against the cabin and laughed. 
** All right, Joe ; I'll have your things taken out and the 
change made by supper time, at the latest. Look out those 
gamblers in there don't skin you." 

True to his word the captain shifted Joe Cooper to 
the room of his new friend, and sent the bull-necked, 
bullwhacking bully who had shared Tom's cabin to take 
the ex-gambler's former berth. This arrangement was 
suitable both ways, for not only were the two friends put 
together, but the two loud-voiced, cursing, frontier 
toughs found each other very agreeable. They had made 
each other's acquaintance at the camp-fire on the bank 
the night previous and like many new and hastily made 



6o "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

friendships, it had not had time to show its weaknesses. 
One of them had stolen a bottle of liquor at the camp 
fire carousal and upon learning of the change shortly 
after supper, had led his new roommate to their joint 
quarters to celebrate the event ; where they both remained. 

The early part of the night was passed as usual, 
Uncle Joe at the card tables, Tom Boyd with Patience 
and later mingling with the hunters and trappers in the 
cabin until his eyes became heavy and threatened to 
close. Leaving his friend at the table, he went to their 
room and in a few moments was so fast asleep that he 
did not hear the merchant come in. It seemed to him that 
he had barely closed his eyes when he awakened with a 
start, sitting up in the berth so suddenly that he soundly 
whacked his head against the ceiling. He rolled out and 
landed on the floor like a cat, pistol in hand, just as his 
roommate groped under the pillow for his own pistol 
and asked what the trouble was all about. 

The sound of it seemed to fill the boat. Shouts, curses, 
crashes against the thin partition located it for them as 
being in the next room, and lighting a candle, the two 
friends, pistols in hands, cautiously opened the door just 
as one of the boat's officers came running down the 
passage-way with a lantern in his hand. There was a 
terrific crash in the stateroom and they saw him put 
down the light and leap into a dark shadow, and roll out 
into sight again in a tangle of legs and arms. Other 
doors opened and night-shirted men poured out and filled 
the passage. 

The battle in the stateroom had taken an unexpected 

turn the moment the officer appeared, for the door sagged 

suddenly, burst from its hinges and flew across the nar* 



TOM CHANGES HIS PL'ANsr 6i 

row way, followed by a soaring figure, to one leg of 
which Ebenezer Whittaker, bully bullwhacker of the 
Santa Fe trail, was firmly fastened. After him dived 
his new friend, who once had ruled a winter-bound party 
of his kind in Brown's hole with a high and mighty 
hand. The trapper went head first into the growling 
pair rolling over the floor, his liquor-stimulated zeal not 
permitting him to waste valuable time in so small a mat- 
ter as the identity of the combatants. He knew that one 
of them was his new roommate, the other a prowling 
thief, and being uncertain in the poor light as to which 
was which, he let the Goddess of Chance direct his ener- 
gies. 

At the other end of the passage-way the boat's officer, 
now reinforced by so many willing helpers that the affair 
was fast taking on the air of a riot, at last managed to 
drag the thief's lookout from the human tangle and 
hustle him into the eager hands of three of the crew, 
leaving the rescuers to fight it out among themselves, 
which they were doing with praiseworthy energy and 
impartial and indefinite aims. Considering that they did 
not know whom they were fighting, nor why, they were 
doing so well that Tom wondered what force could with- 
stand them if they should become united in a compelling 
cause and concerted in their attack. 

At the inner end of the passage, having beaten, choked, 
and gouged the thief into an inert and senseless mass, 
the bullwhacker turned his overflowing energies against 
his new and too enthusiastic friend, and they rolled into 
the stateroom, out again, and toward the heaving pile at 
the upper end of the hall. Striking it in a careless, hap- 
hazard but soHd manner, just as it was beginning to 



62 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

disintegrate into its bruised and angry units, the fighting 
pair acted upon it like a galvanic current on a reflex cen- 
ter; and forthwith the scramble became scrambled anew. 

Finally, by the aid of capstan-bars, boat hooks, axe 
handles, and cordwood, the boat's officers and crew man- 
aged to pry the mass apart and drag out one belligerent 
at a time. They lined them up just as Captain Newell 
galloped down the passage-way, dressed in a pair of 
trousers, reversed ; one rubber boot and one red sock and 
a night shirt partly thrust inside the waistband of the 
trousers; but he was carefully and precisely hatted with 
a high-crowned beaver. He looked as if he were coming 
from a wake and going to a masquerade. Notwithstand- 
ing the very recent and exciting events he received a 
great amount of attention. 

"What-in-hell's-th'-matter?" he angrily demanded, 
glaring around him, a pistol upraised in one hand, the 
other gripping a seasoned piece of ash. "Answer-me-I- 
say-what-in-hell's-th'-matter-down-here ? " 

"There was a fight," carefully explained the weary 
officer. 

" Hell's -bells -I -thought- it- was- a- prayer -meetin' ! " 
yelped the captain. " Who-was-fightin' ? " 

" They was/' answered the officer, waving both hands 
in all directions. 

"What-about?" 

The officer looked blank and scratched his head, care- 
fully avoiding the twin knobs rising over one ear. 
*' Damned if / know, sir!" 

"Were you fightin', Flynn?" demanded the captain 
aggressively and with raging suspicion. " Come, up with 
it, were you?" 



TOM CHANGES HIS PLANS '&^ 

"No, sir; I was a-stoppin' it." 

"My G — d! Then don't you never dare start one!" 
snapped the captain, staring around. " You look like the 
British at N'Orleans," he told the line-up. "What was 
it all about? Hell's bells ! It must 'a' had a beginning! " 

"Yessir," replied the officer. "It sorta begun all at 
once, right after th' explosion." 

"What explosion?" 

" I dunno. I heard it, 'way up on th' hurricane deck,, 
an' hustled right down here fast as I could run. Just 
as I got right over there," and he stepped forward and 
with his foot touched the exact spot, " that there state- 
room door come bustin' out right at me. I sorta ducked 
to one side, an' plumb inter somebody that hit me on th' 
eye. I reckon th' fightin' was from then on. Excuse 
me, sir ; but you got yore pants on upside-down — I means 
stern-foremost, sir." 

" What's my pants got to do with this disgraceful riot, 
or mebby mutiny ? " blazed the reddening captain. He 
couldn't resist a downward glance over his person, and 
hastily slipped the red-socked foot behind its booted mate. 

Somebody snickered and the sound ran along the line, 
gathering volume. Glaring at the battle-scarred line-up. 
Captain Newell waved the pistol and seemed at a loss for 
words. 

Uncle Joe stepped forward with the buUwhacker. 
"Captain, this man says he woke up an' found a thief 
reachin' under his pillow, where he keeps his bottle, i 
think the thief is against the wall, there ; and his partner, 
who doubtless acted as his lookout, is in the hands ol 
those two men. The rest of th' fightin' was promiscuous, 
but well meant. I reckon if you put those two thieves 



64 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

in irons an' let th' rest of us go back to our berths it'll 
ibe th' right thing to do. As for Flynn, he deserves credit 
for his part in it." 

" That's my understanding of it, captain," said Tom, 
and again burst out laughing. "Evidently they were 
laf ter Mr. Cooper's money, which he has shown recklessly, 
and they did not know that he had changed staterooms." 

" Reckon that's it, captain ! " shouted someone, laugh- 
ingly. " Anyhow, it's good enough. Come on, captain ; 
it's time for a drink all 'round ! " 

In another moment a shirt-tailed picnic was in full 
swing, the bottles passing rapidly. 



CHAPTER V 



THE INSULT 



SHORTLY after dawn Tom awakened and became 
conscious of a steady vibration and the rhythmical 
splash of the paddle wheel. Hurriedly dressing he went 
out on deck and glanced shoreward. The cream-and- 
chocolate colored water, of an opacity dense enough to 
hide a piece of shell only a quarter of an inch below its 
surface, rioted past; to port was a low-lying island cov- 
ered with an amazing mass of piled-up trees, logs and 
debris, deposited there by the racing current of the rapid- 
ly-falling stream ; and the distant shore was covered with 
dense forests of walnut and cottonwood, interspersed 
with rich bottoms masked by tangles of brush. Farther 
up he knew the sight would change into an almost treeless 
expanse of green prairies, gashed by scored bluffs of clay. 
The surface of the river was not smooth and the wind 
already had reached disturbing strength, while an occa- 
sional gust of chilling rain peppered the water and 
assaulted the boat. From the beat of the paddles and the 
high frequency of the vibrations he knew the Belle was 
going ahead under full steam, but his momentary frown 
was effaced by the thought that the pilot was competent 
and knew what he was doing. Still, he felt a little uneasy, 
and went forward to pay the pilot a visit. 

Reaching the hurricane deck he saw both pilots at the 
wheel and also a lookout on the roof of the little house^ 
65 



66 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

while in the very point of the bow, on the main deck, 
another lookout was scrutinizing the river ahead. 

" We're makin' good time," said Tom pleasantly as he 
poked his head in the pilot house. 

"Yes," came an answering grunt; "too good, mebby." 

His words and manner were not calculated to encourage 
conversation and the visitor went down to see about 
breakfast. Fortified by a cup of coffee he felt able to 
wait until the meal was ready and went out on deck 
again, standing in the shelter of an angle of the cabin, 
pretending to be interested in the slowly shifting pano- 
rama, but really impatiently waiting for the appearance 
of Patience Cooper. He had waited for about an hour, 
hardly stirring from his post near the door which she 
had used the morning before, when he caught sight of 
her crossing the cabin. Turning from the window and 
stepping forward he opened the door for her and after a 
short, cheerful talk about being under way again, led her 
to the breakfast table, ignoring the scowling horse-dealer 
who sat at a table in a corner talking to Elias Stevens. 

Their breakfast did not take as long as it had on the 
previous morning, one reason being that while they ate 
they sensed the boat turn toward the shore and before 
they had finished it stopped along the bank and moored 
again. 

" I do believe the rain has ceased for the day," Patience 
observed, peering out of the window by her side. " It is 
growing brighter every minute. I wonder why the boat 
has stopped?" 

" Too much wind," answered her companion, nodding 
at the waves running past the boat. 

"If that is all, I'm going ashore," she declared. 



THE INSULT 67 



"You may find it disagreeable," warned Tom, de- 
lighted by the prospect of a tramp with her. " It is bound 
to be wet under foot and the wind will be cold and pene- 
trating; but if you don't mind it, I'm sure / don't. " He 
finished his coffee and smiled, " It will be a great relief 
to get off this boat." 

" Come on, then ; I'll meet you at the landing stage in 
ten minutes," she exclaimed. "This will be a good 
opportunity to get accustomed to the heavy boots Uncle 
Joe had made for me. They smell like tallow candles 
with leather wicks, if you can imagine the combination." 

He saw her enter her stateroom and then went to his 
own, got his rifle and stood at the gangplank like a sentry. 
In less than the allotted time she joined him, waved gaily 
at her uncle and the captain, who were talking together 
near the pilot house, and went, down the sloping plank, 
eager to explore the river bank. As they reached the top 
of the terrace-like bank and turned to wave again, the 
sun broke through the clouds and turned the moisture- 
laden trees and brush into a jeweled fairyland. They 
did not go far south since they were restricted to the 
more open spaces where they could walk without rubbing 
against wet foliage, but they found comparatively open 
lanes along the top of the bank, from where they could 
keep watch over the packet and get back without undue 
haste at the sound of her warning whistle. 

They crossed the trails of several animals and she 
listened with interest to her companion's description of 
their makers, wondering at his intimate knowledge of 
animal habits. Finally, coming to a great cottonwood 
log, stripped of its bark and shining in the sunlight, he 
helped her upon it and sat down by her side. 



BRING ME HIS BARS' 



" You surprised me, Miss Cooper, when you mentioned 
you were going to Santa Fe," he said, turning to one of 
the subjects uppermost in his mind. "It is a long, 
tedious, trying journey to men, and it must prove infin- 
itely more so to a woman." 

" I suppose so," she replied reflectively. " But you 
know, Mr. Boyd, I haven't seen my father in five years, 
and his letter, sent back by the eastbound caravan from 
Santa Fe last year, told us how he missed me and how 
dissatisfied he was with his housekeeping arrangements 
and how he dreaded to spend another winter away from 
us. It was too late then, of course, to make the trip, but 
I determined to go to him with the first caravan leaving 
Independence this spring. Uncle Joe fumed and fussed 
about it and collected all the stories of privation, loss 
of sanity and sudden death, and everything else of a 
deterring nature and brought them home to me to serve 
as warnings. I can do anything I want with him except 
keep him from gambling, and when he really understood 
that nothing could stop me, he gave in and I soon had 
him so busy explaining away the woeful tales he had 
brought me, and hunting up new ones of a bright and 
cheerful aspect that he half believed them himself. I 
learned that all the Indians were pets, that there were 
miles of flowers all the way, that people near death from 
all kinds of causes miraculously recovered their health 
by the end of the first two days, and that the caravan 
had to watch closely to keep its members from leaving 
it and settling all along the trail." 

They burst out laughing together. He could easily 
picture her uncle frantically reversing himself. He had 
taken a great liking to Joseph Cooper, who was a hurnor- 



THE INSULT 69 



ous, warm-hearted old fox among his friends, delighting 
in their pleasures and sunning himself complacently in 
their approbation. No trouble was too great for him to 
go through if it would bring happiness to those he cared 
for. 

They laughed and chatted and enjoyed themselves 
greatly, and were very much surprised when his lean 
figure appeared beside the pilot house and they saw him 
wave his hat and motion toward his mouth with anima- 
tion and great exaggeration. 

" Good heavens ! Is it dinner time already? " exclaimed 
Tom, sliding from the log, and becoming aware for tb.5 
first time that the log had been far from as drjr as he 
thought. 

Laughing and scampering, they hurried back toward 
the landing, racing down the hill that led to the little 
opening in the grove not far from the water's edge. As 
they started down it Tom caught sight of several figures 
sprawled on the sand, which had dried quickly under the 
combined attacks of sun and wind. Among them he saw 
the lank form of Ephriam Schoolcraft slowly arising 
to one elbow as the horse-dealer turned and watched thern 
come down the incline. 

Patience stumbled, her heavy boots bothering her, and 
her companion checked himself and caught her as she 
pitched forward. Swinging her through the air, he put 
her down again on the other side of him and laughingly 
offered his arm. 

" Thar ain't nothin' like 'lasses fer to draw flies," came 
the drawling, unpleasant' voice of the sneering figure on 
the ground. " Blow flies air included. Wrap it in skirts 
an' young fellers make plumb fools o' theirselves. Anj] 



TO ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

flirt kin pull th' wool over thar eyes like it war a loose 
skin cap." His raucous laugh was doubly disagreeable 
because of the sneer envenoming it, and Tom stiffened. 

"I seed an example o' that right yere on this hyar 
packet; an' most likely I'll see a hull lot more o' it if I 
has patience. He-he-he!" 

Tom checked his stride, but the quick, reassuring pres- 
sure on his arm made him keep on, his burning face held 
rigidly toward the boat. He dared not look at his com- 
panion. They walked silently up the landing stage and 
into the cabin, Tom waiting with ill concealed impatience 
lintil his companion should join her uncle at the table. 
But he was surprised, for she spoke in a pleasant, soft 
tone and ordered him to remain where he was for a few 
minutes. Before he could make up his mind what she 
meant he saw her lean over her uncle's table and say 
something. The ex-gambler pushed suddenly back, pat- 
ted her on the head and walked briskly but nonchalantly 
tovv'^ard the curious onlooker. 

" You young folks never have any regard for an old 
man's comfort," he chuckled as he took hold of Tom's 
arm. "Now, sir, I'll take great pleasure in stretching 
my legs in any direction you may select, and in stretching 
the neck of any officious meddler. I am at your service, 
Tom; and, damn it, I'm not too old to become a princi- 
pal!" 

Tom stared at him for a moment as the words sunk 
in. "By G — d!" he murmured. "There ain't another 
like her in th' whole, wide world! Thank you, Mr. 
Cooper: if you'll be kind enough to stand on one side 
and keep the affair strictly between myself and that pole- 
cat, I'll try not to keep you from your dinner very long. 



THE INSULT 71 



He might have been decent enough to have picked his 
quarrel in some other way ! " 

Schoolcraft arose alertly as they entered the little 
clearing, and watched Tom hand the double-barreled rifle 
to his companion, slip off his belt and throw his coat 
over it. The horse-dealer grinned with savage elation 
as he discarded his own weapons and coat, hardly be- 
lieving in his good fortune. Not many men along the 
border cared to meet him unarmed. 

Tom stepped forward. " Every time I look at that 
terbaccer juice a-dribblin' down yer chin, Schoolcraft, it 
riles me," he said evenly. " I'm a-goin' ter wipe it off," 
and his open hand struck his enemy's jaw with a 
resounding whack as he stepped swiftly to one side. 
"You've alius had a sneakin' grudge ag'in me," he 
asserted, giving ground before the infuriated horse- 
dealer, "since I caught ye cheatin' at Independence. 
You've been tryin' ter work it off ever since we left th' 
levee. I reckon this belongs to you ! " 

He stepped in quickly and drove his right fist into 
Schoolcraft's mouth, avoiding the flailing blows. " If 
ye'll stand up ter it an' make it a fight," he jeered, " I'll 
be much obliged to ye, fer I've promised my friend not 
ter keep him from his dinner." Again he stepped in 
and struck the bleeding lips. He boxed correctly accord- 
ing to the times, except that he used his feet to good 
advantage. His education at an eastern university had 
been well rounded and he never allowed himself to get 
out of condition. 

Schoolcraft, stung to fury, leaped forward to grapple, 
hoping to make it a rough-and-tumble affair, at which 
style of fighting he had but few equals. Instead of his 



'J2 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

adversary stepping to one side, he now stood solidly 
planted in one spot, his left foot a little advanced, and 
drove in a series of straight-arm blows that sent the 
horse-dealer staggering back. The younger man pressed 
his advantage, moving forward with unswerving deter- 
mination, his straight punches invariably beating the 
ill-timed and terrific swings of his bleeding opponent, 
who showed a vitality and an ability to take punishment 
not unusual among the men of his breed. The horse- 
dealer knew that if the fight remained an open affair he 
would not last long, and he got command over his rage 
and began to use his head. 

Suddenly he dropped to hands and knees under a 
right-hand blow that was a little short of hurting him,, 
and sprang up under his enemy's guard, and brought 
exultant ejaculations from his little group of friends. 
But for the warning conveyed to Tom by the knowledge 
that he barely had touched the horse-dealer's jaw with 
that blow, and could not have knocked him down,, the 
trick might have worked; and as it was it succeeded in 
bringing the two men to close grips. Schoolcraft's right 
arm slid around his enemy's waist and hugged him close, 
while the left slipped up between them until the hand 
went under the younger man's chin and began to push it 
up and back. It was the horse-dealer's favorite and most 
deadly trick and he exulted as he arched his back and 
threw his full strength into the task. Never had it failed 
to win, for the victim of that hold must either quit or 
have his neck broken; and the choice did not rest with 
the victim. 

The muscles of Tom's neck stood out as though they 
would burst, the veins of his forehead and throat swelling 



THE INSULT 73 



into tiny serpents, and his crimson face grew darker and 
darker, a purplish tint creeping into it. But Schoolcraft 
found that he was dealing with a man who had studied 
wrestling as eagerly as its sister science. He also found 
that there was a counter to his favorite hold, always pro- 
viding that it had been robbed of its greatest factor: 
surprise. For it to be deadly effective his whole strength 
had to be thrown into it instantly and meet no ready, 
rigid opposition; and in this he had failed because of the 
subtle warning conveyed to his adversary when he fell 
before a harmless blow. Almost before he knew it 
Tom's left arm, circling high in air, jammed in between 
their heads and forced its way down to Schoolcraft's 
cheek. At the same instant the right hand dashed down 
and got a fold inside his left thigh, close up against the 
crotch ; and as the left arm thrust his head sidewise with 
a power not to be withstood, the right hand lifted sud- 
denly to the right and he struck the ground on his head 
and shoulder with a shock which rendered him senseless. 

The winner staggered back, braced himself and swayed 
a little on his feet as ke sucked in great gulps of air. He 
wheeled savagely as he heard a shuffling step to one side 
and slightly behind him, but the precaution was not 
necessary, for simultaneously with the shuffling came Joe 
Cooper's snapped warning, cold and deadly. 

" Better stop, Stevens ! I'm only lookin' for an excuse 
to blow you open ! " 

Elias Stevens obeyed, standing irresolute and scowl- 
ing. " You talk d — d big behind a gun ! " he sneered. 

"Only half as big as I might, seeing it's a double 
gun," retorted the older man. " If it don't suit you we 
can turn, step off ten paces an' fire when we're ready. 



74 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Might as well make a good job of it while we're about 
it. I ain't no Mike Fink; but you ain't no Carpenter, 
so I reckon it's purty even." 

" I'll take care of any objectors, in any fashion," said 
Tom, facing Stevens and the others. " I'll be ready fer 
you, Stevens, by th' time you get your weapons an' coat 
off, if you choose that way. Pickin' on an old man don't 
go while there's a younger one around; an', besides, it's 
my quarrel. There it is, in your teeth; take it, and eat 
it!" 

"It war a fair fight," said an onlooker in grudging 
admiration. He expressed the ethics of the fighting cur- 
rent at that time in that part of the country. Any kind of 
fighting, be it with hands, feet, nails, teeth or other 
weapons was fair as long as no outsider took a hand in 
it. It had been the rule of the keelboatmen and they had 
carried it up and down the waterways, from New Or- 
leans to the upper Mississippi and from Pittsburg to 
the Rockies. 

Tom nodded. "All right. You can tell him that he 
won't get in close, next time," he said, glancing at the 
stirring loser. "Come on. Uncle Joe; your dinner's 
plumb cold an' ruined." 

" I'm hot enough to warm it as I chaw ! " snapped his 
friend. " I was scared for a moment, though ; fighting 
out in this country don't get you nothin' but a tombstone, 
generally, an' you'll be cussed lucky if you get that. But 
you did what you started out to do ; I couldn't see no to- 
bacco juice on his chin th' last time I looked." He fol- 
lowed his companion down the bank and as they crossed 
the gangplank he chuckled, " I won't eat no liver for a 
long time, I reckon : his face near made me sick ! " 



THE INSULT 7s 



"I shouldn't 'a' cut him up so," admitted Tom; "but 
I was working off a grudge. Next time, I'll kill him." 
Then he thought of Patience and glowed all over. 
"There ain't another like her, nowhere!" he muttered. 

Uncle Joe glanced sideways at the slightly marked 
face of his companion, shrewdly noting the expression 
of reverent awe and adoration. 

"Young man," he said, "you're a little mite hasty, 
but I like 'em that way. I reckon if you took my wag- 
gins inter Santa Fe you'd get patience." 

At this second play on her name within the last half 
hour Tom whirled in his tracks and held out his hand. 
" Uncle Joe, if you think I'm able to handle 'em, I'll take 
'em through h — 1 if I have to, without a blister — " then 
he faltered and his face grew hard as he shook his head 
in regret. "I can't do it," he growled. "It wouldn't 
be fair to bring down Armijo's wrath on your niece and 
brother. He'd hound them like the savage brute he is. 
No; you'll have to keep to whatever arrangements you 
had in mind." 

Uncle Joe shook his head. "That's too bad, Tom. 
I was counting on you keeping an eye on Patience and 
seeing her through. It's too cussed bad." 

Tom's laugh rang out across the water. "Oh, I'm 
going to do that! I'm bound for Santa Fe, either as a 
free lance or with trade goods of my own ; but I am not 
going with your wagons. I got it pretty well figured 
out." 

"I'm alius gettin' into places where I've got to back 
out," grumbled Uncle Joe. " Now I reckon I'll have to 
tell Patience you're too young an' giddy to handle my 
outfit. An' then mebby I'll have to back out ag'in ! Tell 



76 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

you one thing, this here Santa Fe trip may be fine for 
invalids, but it ain't done my health no good ! " While 
Tom laughed at him he considered. "Huh! I don't 
reckon it'll be a good thing to let her know that you an* 
Armijo are as friendly as a Cheyenne an' a Comanche, 
Cuss it ! Oh, well ; put away this gun an' come on in an* 
eat, if there's anything left" 



CHAPTER VI 

INDIANS AND GAMBLIjRS • 

SHORTLY after noon the wind died down enough to 
let the packet resume her up-stream labors, and ex- 
pectations ran high that she would make a long, peaceful 
run. They were not to be reahzed. 

The first unpleasant incident occurred when the boat 
had been run against a bank at a woodpile to replenish 
her fuel. The lines were made fast and the first of the 
wood-carriers had reached the stacked cordwood when 
from behind it arose a dozen renegade Indians, willing 
to turn momentarily from their horse-stealing expedition 
long enough to levy a tribute of firewater on the boat. 
They refused to allow a stick to be removed without 
either a fight or a supply of liquor and trade goods, and 
the leader of the band grappled with the foremost mem- 
ber of the crew and tried to drag him behind the shelter 
of the pile and so gain a hostage to give additional weight 
to their demands and to save them from being fired on. 

Goaded by despair and fright from the unexpectedness 
of the attack and what might be in store for him the 
white man struggled desperately and, with the return of 
a measure of calmness, worked a neat cross-buttock on 
his red adversary and threw him sprawling out in plain 
sight of the boat. Half a dozen plainsmen on board had 
leaped for their rifles and shouted the alarm; a four 
pound carronade was wheeled swiftly into position and a 
77 



78 "BRING ME HIS EARS' 



charge of canister sent crashing over the woodpile into 
the brush and trees. The roar of the gun and the racket 
caused by the charge as it rattled through the branches 
and brush filled the savages with dismay and, not daring 
to run from the pile and up the bank under the cannon 
and the rapidly augmented rifles on the decks of the boat, 
they raised their hands and slowly emerged from their 
worthless breastwork. 

Captain Newell shouted frantic instructions to his grim 
and accurate volunteers, ordering and begging in one 
breath for them not to fire, for he knew that bloodshed 
would start a remorseless sniping warfare along the 
river that might last for several seasons. At such a game 
the snipers on the banks, concealed as they would be, 
could reasonably be expected to run up quite a list of cas- 
ualties on the boat. This was no new experience for him 
and he knew that nothing serious would grow out of it 
as long as none of the Indians were injured. This little 
party was composed of the renegade scourings of the 
frontier tribes which had been debauched by their contact 
with the liquor-selling whites and they were more fitted 
for petty thievery than the role of warriors. He shouted 
and argued and cursed and pleaded with the eager rifle- 
men, most of whom burned with the remembrance of 
stolen packs of furs and equipment at the hands of such 
Indians as these. 

The growling plainsmen, knowing that he was right 
and understanding his position, reluctantly kept their 
trigger fingers extended and finally lowered their pieces, 
hoping that the Indians would lose their heads and do 
some overt act ; but the Indians were not fools, whatever 
else they, might have been. With eager alertness on one 



INDIANS AND GAMBLERS 79 

side and sullen acquiescence on the other the wooding 
was finished, ropes cast off and the Missouri Belle pushed 
quickly out into the stream, her grimi faced defenders- 
manning the stern decks and praying for an excuse ta 
open fire. 

No sooner had a reasonable distance been opened be-- 
tween the boat and the bank than the Indians, at a signal 
from their leader, leaped behind the woodpile and opened 
fire on the boat with muskets and bows and arrows, the 
latter weapons far more accurate than the miserable trade 
guns which a few of the bravesi carried. With them 
dropping an arrow is an instinct and they have developed 
it to a degree that is remarkable, to say the least; while 
with the smooth-bore trade guns, with varying charges 
of trade powder and sizes of balls, they were poor shots 
at any distance. Instantly two score rifles replied from 
the boat, pouring their leaden hail into the stacked wood, 
but without any noticeable result; and before a second 
round could be fired the distance had been increased ta 
such an extent that only one or two excitable tenderf eet 
tried a second shot. The chief result of the incident was 
the breaking of the monotony of the trip and the starting 
of chains of reminiscences among the hunters and trap- 
pers to which the tenderfeet listened with eager ears. 

After this flurry of excitement interest slowly swung 
far astern, where the American Fur Company's boat was 
supposed to be breasting the current on her long voyage 
to Fort Union and beyond, and many eyes were on the 
lookout for a glimpse of her smoke. A sight of the 
boat itself, except at close range, was almost hopeless 
because the bends in the river were so numerous and 
close together that the stream seemed Hke a narrow lake. 



So "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

The surface of the water was becoming different from 
what it had been, for the great masses of floating debris 
liad thinned and no longer came down in raf t-Hke forma- 
tions. This was due to the rapid falling of the water, 
which had stranded more and more of the bulkier drift 
and piled it up at the head of every island, emerging bar 
and jutting point. At the height of the freshets, espe- 
cially the April rise, often the logs and trees came down 
so thick and solid that they resembled floating islands. 
This was in large measure due to the simultaneous float- 
ing of the vast accumulations piled up all along the banks, 
and it aroused disgust and anxiety in the hearts of the 
boatmen, who feared for hulls and paddle wheels. 

The harmless brush with the Indians and the stories 
the affair had started quickened interest in firearms, and 
during the rest of the afternoon there was considerable 
target practice against the ducks, geese, and debris, and 
an occasional long shot at some animal on the distant 
bank. 

Tom Boyd did his share of this, glad of the oppor- 
tunity to try out his new and strange weapons, and to put 
off meeting Patience Cooper as long as he could, fearing 
her attitude concerning his fight with Schoolcraft. He 
found that the newly marketed Colt six-shooter was 
accurate and powerful at all reasonable ranges, beauti- 
fully balanced and well behaving. It attracted a great 
deal of attention from fellow travelers, for it was not 
as well-known in Missouri as it was in other parts of 
the country. The English rifle, not much heavier than 
the great Hawken weapons of his companions, despite 
its two barrels, shot true and strong, and the two ready 
shots at his command easily recompensed him for the 



INDIANS AND GAMBLERS Se 

additional weight. At this time, in the country into 
which he was going, an instantly available second shot 
had an importance not to be overlooked. To the Indians, 
especially, was it disconcerting, and its moral effect par- 
took of the nature of magic and made a white man's 
"medicine" that demanded and received a wholesome 
respect. He found that it followed the rough and ready 
rule of the frontier that up to a hundred yards the proper 
charge was as much powder as would cover the bullet 
in the palm of the hand. In the long range shots the 
weapon was surprisingly accurate, and one thoughtful 
and intelligent hunter, who had guided several English 
sporting parties, gave the credit to the pointed bullets. 

"Thar ain't no doubt about it, pardner," he confided 
to Tom as he slyly produced his own bullet mold, and 
showed it to his companion. " I've tried 'em out in my, 
own rifle, an' they shore do shoot straighter an' further. 
This hyar mold war give ter me by a city hunter I had 
in my party when we found it would fit my rifle. I 
ain't usin' th' old un no more. Rub a leetle b'ar grease 
or buffaler tallow on th' patch paper, young man, ter 
make 'em go down easier. Thar good beaver." 

The sun set in a gold and crimson glory, working its 
magic metamorphosis on river, banks, and bottoms, 
painting the colored cliffs and setting afire the crystals 
in which their clay was rich. Though usually the scen- 
ery along this river at this time of the year was nothing 
to boast of, there were certain conditions under which 
it resembled a fairyland. The rolling wavelets bore their 
changing colors across the glowing water and set dancing 
myriad flashes of sunlight; streaks of sunlight reached 
in under the trees along the bank and made fairy path^ 



t2 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

among* the trunks, while the imbedded crystals in the 
clay bluffs glittered in thousands of pin-points of iri- 
descent flame. 

When supper time came around Tom still felt a little 
reluctant to meet Patience, worried by how she might 
greet him, although her actions preceding the fight should 
have told him that his fears were groundless. To his 
great relief she met him as graciously as she had before, 
and as a matter of fact he thought he detected a little 
more warmth and interest, but discounted this because he 
feared that his judgment might be biased in his favor by 
his hopes. 

Uncle Joe apparently had forgotten all about the affair 
and did not refer to it in any way, confining himself to 
subjects connected with the great southwest highway, its 
trade, outfitting, the organization of the caravans, the 
merchandising at Santa Fe and bits of historical and 
personal incidents, not forgetting to comment on the 
personality of Armijo and his arbitrary impost of five 
hundred dollars on each wagon to cross the boundary, 
regardless of what its contents might be. He chuckled 
over the impost, for the goods which he had sent up to 
Independence by an earlier boat had been selected with 
that tax in mind. He had his own ideas about the pay- 
ment of the impost, and although he could not entirely 
avoid it, he intended to take a great deal of the sting out 
of it. 

He contended that the beating of unlawful duties was 
not cheating, since it was purely a game of one individual 
outwitting another, one being an arbitrary tyrant who 
was strongly suspected of pocketing the wagon tax for 
his own uses. The only trouble with his philosophy wa* 



INDIANS AND GAMBLERS 83 

•what it set going, for having proved one evasion of tax 
to be honest it tended to go farther and justify other 
evasions which fairly crossed the ethical boundaries. 
One of these was the rumored prohibition of Mackinaw 
blankets and the export tax on specie. This last would 
be something of a hardship, for coin was the best and 
most easily carried of all mediums of payment, and the 
Mexican government, in levying this tax, would tend to 
force the traders to barter rather than sell their goods. 
If payment were had in specie, the wagons could be dis- 
posed of at a fair profit and mules used to pack it back 
to Missouri. When sewed tightly in rawhide bags it be- 
came an unshifting mass by the shrinking of the leather 
under the rays of the sun. Some of the traders took 
mules in exchange for their goods which, if they could 
be safely delivered in the Missouri settlements, would 
give an additional profit of no mean per centum; but 
losses in mules were necessarily suffered on the long 
return trip, and the driving, corralling, and guarding of 
a herd was a task to try the patience of a saint and the 
ingenuity of the devil. The Indians would take almost 
any kind of chances to stampede a herd of mules, and 
they were adepts at the game. 

Uncle Joe had been over the trail, having gone out 
with that band of Missourians who took the first wagons 
across from Franklin in 1824, and he had kept in close 
touch with the New Mexican and Chihuahuan trade 
ever since. He knew the tricks, and had invented some 
of his own, which he guarded well. For the despotic 
Armijo he had a vast contempt, which was universal 
among the great majority of the men who knew any- 
thing at all about the cruel, conceited, and dishonest Gov- 



84 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

ernor of the Department of New Mexico. The unfortu- 
nate Texan Santa Fe Expedition had aroused bitter 
feelings among Americans and Texans against the Mex- 
ican, many of them having had friends and relatives in 
that terrible winter march of two thousand miles on foot 
from Santa Fe to the City of Mexico, which followed so 
close upon the heart-breaking and disastrous northward 
march from Texas to a vile betrayal and barbarous treat- 
ment. Anything American or Texas plainsmen could do 
to hurt or discredit the inhuman pomposity whose rise 
to power had been through black treachery and coldly 
planned murder, would be done with enthusiastic zeal. 

At the close of the leisurely eaten meal they went on 
deck in time to see the John Auld round the next up- 
stream bend and forge forward, soon stopping, however, 
to drift past the slowed Missouri Belle while their pilots 
exchanged terse information about the channels and 
snags. The John Auld carried a small cargo of fur packs 
on her main deck and a few free hunters and trappers 
on their way to St. Louis to dispose of their goods and to 
outfit anew. By this time the fur of the pelts slipped and 
the fur taking season was over, but there was always the 
buffalo to lure them afield again. 

The evening was delightful and hopes ran high for an 
uninterrupted voyage. Uncle Joe expressed the belief 
that the boat would run all night in view of the favorable 
weather; Tom demurring on the grounds of the rapidly 
falling river and the blackness of the nights. The boat 
curved sharply to avoid a jutting bar and straightened 
out again. Prompted by sight of some of the passengers 
who promenaded past them the talk swung to the fur 
trade in general and to the end of it, which was rapidly 



INDIANS AND GAMBLERS 85 

being brought nearer by the great tide of emigration 
setting in. Discussions regarding the emigrants and the 
great Oregon Trail followed as a matter of course and 
almost before they knew it it was time for Patience to 
retire, and her companions soon followed her example. 
Uncle Joe foregoing his usual night game. 

When morning broke they found that they had sailed 
nearly all the night, and the boat kept on all day, stopping 
only at a few landings and to take on wood, of which 
she burned an amazing quantity. Another night's run 
brought them well up the river, but the following day 
found them tied to a bank, because of adverse weather. 
In the afternoon, the wind dying out, they were on the 
way again and another night's sail was looked for. 
Patience retired earlier than usual and when Tom re- 
turned from seeing her safely into her room he found 
Uncle Joe impatiently waiting for him, 

" Come on, Tom," said the merchant. " I've still got 
a lot to learn about gamblin' an' there ain't much time 
left to do it in. Let's go back an' see if there's a game 
runnin'. I might as well let somebody else pay th' ex- 
penses of this trip." 

Tom nodded and followed his companion into the 
cabin set apart for men and sat down at a table with two 
trappers, from where he could watch the game at close 
range, for he realized that the time for the gamblers to 
get the merchant's money also was getting short Under 
the conditions almost anything might occur and he felt 
that he owed a debt to his friend for the part he had 
played during the fight with Schoolcraft. 

Uncle Joe joined Stevens and a companion, who were 
idly playing and who seemed to be impatiently and ner- 



^ "BRING MB HIS EARS" 

vously waiting for his appearance; soon a tense game 
was in progress. At a table in a corner from where the 
players could be closely watched Ephriam Schoolcraft, 
his face still badly bruised, was talking in sullen under- 
tones to the little Mexican and another companion, while 
hunters, traders, trappers, and men of various other call- 
ings kept up a low hum of conversation throughout the 
cabin. 

From one group came fragments of fur trade gossip: 
" Th' American Fur Company's talkin' about abandonin' 
Fort Van Buren. Thar's been a lot o' posts let go to 
grass th' last two years. Th' business ain't what it was 
ten year ago." 

" On th' other hand," replied a co^npanion, " Fox an' 
Livingston air goin' fer to put up a post at th' mouth o* 
th' Little Bighorn, which evens up fer Van Buren; an' 
Chardon's aimin' fer to put one up at th' mouth o' th' 
Judith. Th' trade's all right, only th' American's got 
more buckin' agin' it." 

" 'Tain't what it onct was, though," said a third trader. 
" Thar's too many posts an' private parties. Ye can't go 
nowhere hardly in th' Injun country without comin' slap 
up ag'in a post o' some kind. Thar's Zack: hey, Zack! 
Come over hyar!" 

Zack, a mountain hunter and a free one, swung over 
and joined the group. 

"Jest been palaverin' with some Canucks," he said. 
" Fur's I could git th' hang o' thar parley-vouz thar goin' 
up ter help open Fort William, at th' mouth o' th' Yaller- 
stun, fer Fox an' Livingston. They sez Pratte an' Ca- 
banne had took over Fort Platte, up nigh th' Laramie. 
How fur ye goin' on this packet, Smith ? " 



INDIANS 'AND GAMBLERS 87 

"Bellevue," answered Smith. "I'm headin' up th* 
Platte a-ways, if th' danged Pawnees let me git past. 
Pardner's waitin' near th' mouth with a bullboat. 
Reckon we kin count on enough water, this time o' year, 
fer ter float that; 'though I shore ain't bettin' on it," he 
chuckled. 

Zack laughed. ** Th' Platte shore comes close ter bein' 
all shadder an' no substance. Dangest stream / ever 
seen, an' I've seen a-plenty." 

" Don't think a hull lot o' that country, nohow," said 
a third. " Them Pawnees air th' worst thieves an' mur- 
derers this side o' th' Comanchees. They kin steal yer 
shirt without techin' yer coat, danged if they can't. 
Blast 'em, I know *em ! " 

Zack laughed shortly, "They ain't nowhar with th' 
Crows when it comes ter stealin'," he averred. 

Smith chuckled again. " Yer right, Zack. He's pizeri 
set ag'in 'em ever sence they stole his packs an' everythin' 
that wasn't a-hangin' ter him. 'Twarn't much o' a walk 
he had, though, only a couple hundred miles." 

"Ye kin bet I'm pizen ag'in 'em sence then," retorted 
the Pawnee-hater vehemently. " If I tuk scalps I could 
show ye somethin'. They've paid a lot fer what they 
stole that time." 

From another group came the mention of a name 
which took Tom's instant attention. 

"I hears Ol' Jim Bridger's quit tradin' in furs as a 
reg'lar thing," said the voice. " They say he's gone in fer 
tinkerin' an' outfittin' up nigh Teton Pass. Got a fust 
rate post too, they say." 

"Tinkerin' what?" demanded a listener. "What kin 
he outfit 'way up thar?" 



88 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

" Emigrants ! " snorted the first speaker. *' Figgers on 
sellin' 'em supplies an' sich, an' repairin' fer 'em at his 
smithy. I shore reckon they'll need him a hull lot more'n 
he'll need them. That's a long haul fer wagons, tender- 
feet's 'spacially — Independence ter th' Divide — 'though 
it ain't what it was when Hunt an' Crooks went out 
thirty year ago." 

" No, 'tain't," replied a third man. " An' it's a lucky 
thing fer th' tenderfeet that Nat Wyeth went an' built 
Fort Hall whar he did, even if 'twas fer th' Hudson Bay. 
I'm tellin' ye these hyar emigrants would be stayin' ter 
home from Oregon an' Calif orny if 'twarn't fer what us 
trappers has did fer th' country. Thar ain't nary a trail 
that we didn't locate fer 'em." 

The first man nodded. " Not mentionin' th' Injuns 
afore us, we found thar roads, passes, an' drinkin' water 
fer 'em; an' now thar flockin' in ter spile our business. 
One thing, though, thar goin' straight acrost, most on 
'em. It could be a hull lot worse." 

While Tom's ears caught bits of the conversation 
round-about his eyes paid attention to the gambling table 
and on two occasions he half arose from his chair to 
object profanely to the way Stevens played; but each 
time he was not quite sure. On the third occasion one of 
the trappers glanced at him, smiled grimly, and nodded 
at the hard-pressed gambler. 

" Th' fur trade ain't th' only skin game, young feller/* 
he softly said. "Ol' man a friend o' yourn?" 

Tom nodded and watched more closely, and a moment 
later he stiffened again. 

" Why, h — 1 ! " growled the trapper, sympathizing with 
one of his own calling. *' Go fur him, young feller, an' 



I 

i 

INDIANS 'AND GAMBLERS 89 

chuck him inter th' river ! I'll hold oif his pardner fer 
ye!" 

An older trapper sauntered over and seated himself 
at Tom's side. " Been watchin' them fer quite a spell," 
he said in a low voice. " Ain't that ol' feller St. Louis 
Joe?" 

Tom shrugged his shoulders, and saw a great light. 
Who hadn't heard of St. Louis Joe? His new friend's 
love of gambling, and his success against Stevens and 
his crowd would be accounted for if the trapper was 
right. He glanced at the speaker and replied: "Don't 
know. I never saw him till I crossed th' levee at St. 
Louis jest afore we sailed." 

" Looks a heap like him, anyhow," muttered the new- 
comer. " Fair an' squar, he war. I seen him play when 
I war goin' down to N'Orleans, ten year ago. Never 
fergit a face, an' I shore remember his, fer he war playin' 
that time fer 'most all th' money in th' Mississippi Valley, 
I reckon. Consarn it, I know it's him! Fer ol' times' 
sake, if he gits inter trouble with that skunk, I'm with 
him ter th' hilt." He started to leave the table, thought 
better of it and slid forward to the edge of his chair. 
"He's bein' cheated blind. I saw that skunk palm a 
card!" 

Tom nodded, his hand resting on his belt, but he did 
not take his eyes from the game. He suspected that 
Uncle Joe was pretty well informed about what was 
going on and would object when it suited him. 

The first trapper leaned over the table and whispered 
to his friend. " This young feller is watchin' the cheat, 
an' I'm watchin' th' pardner. You might keep an eye 
on that Independence hoss-thief over thar — that feller 



90 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

with th' raw meat face, that this youngster gave him. 
From th' way he's lookin' thar ain't no tellin' how this 
hyar party is goin' ter bust up." 

The second plainsman nodded and after a moment 
dropped his pipe on the floor. He shifted in his chair 
as he reached down for it and when he sat up again he 
was in a little different position, and not a thing at 
Sclioolcraft's table escaped his eyes. 

"I'll take th' greaser 'longside him," muttered the 
third plainsman. " W'ich is a plain duty an' a pleasure. 
Bet ye a plew I nail him atween his eyes, fust crack, if 
he gits hostile." 

Suddenly there came a loud smack as Uncle Joe's left 
hand smashed down on the cards in Stevens' hand, hold- 
ing them against the table while his right hand flashed 
under the partly buttoned edge of his long frock coat. It 
hung there, struggling with something in the inside 
pocket. Stevens had jerked his own hand loose, relin- 
quishing the cards, and with the sharp motion a small, 
compact percussion pistol slid out of his sleeve and into 
his grasp as his hand stopped. He was continuing the 
motion, swinging the weapon up and forward when Tom, 
leaning suddenly forward in his chair, sent his heavy- 
skinning knife flashing through the air. The first trapper 
had thrown a pistol down on the gambler's partner, the 
second stopped Ephriam Schoolcraft's attempted draw 
against Tom, and the third plainsman was peering 
eagerly along the barrel of his pistol at a spot between 
the Mexican's eyes. Had it been a well rehearsed act 
things could not have happened quicker or smoother. 

Not five other persons in the cabin had any intimation 
of what was coming until Tom's knife, flying butt first 



INDIANS 'AND GAMBLERS 91 

through the air, knocked the pistol from Stevens' hand. 
The weapon struck the floor and exploded, the bullet 
passing through a cabin window. As the knife left his 
hand the thrower had leaped after it and he grabbed the 
desperate gambler in a grip against which it was useless 
to struggle. Uncle Joe, loosening his hold on the pocket 
pistol tangled in the lining of his coat, leaped around 
the table and quickly passed his hands over the clothing 
of the prisoner. 

"What's th' trouble here?" demanded the quick, 
authoritative voice of the captain as he ran in from the 
deck. "Who fired that shot, an' why?" 

He soon was made familiar with the whole affair and 
stepped to the table, picked up the cards and spread them 
for everyone to see. Asking a few questions of disin- 
terested eye-witnesses, he looked about the cabin and 
spoke. 

" I've nothing to say about gambling on this boat as 
long as gentlemen play," he said sharply. "When the 
play is crooked, / take a hand. I can't overlook this." 
He motioned to the group of boat hands crowding about 
the door and they took hold of Stevens and his partner. 
" Take these men and get their effects, and then put them 
ashore in the yawl. I'll have provisions put aboard while 
you're gone, Stevens, due south not many miles is the 
St. Louis-Independence wagon road. It is heavily trav- 
eled this time of the year. You can't miss it. Besides 
that there are numerous cabins scattered about the bot- 
toms, and not far up-stream is a settlement. Take 'em 
away." Glancing over the cabin again and letting his 
eyes rest for a moment on Ephriam Schoolcraft, he 
wheeled and started for the door, but paused as he 



92 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

, t 

reached it. " If there's any further trouble I'll be on the 
hurricane deck, for'rd. We're going to run all night if 
we can. I don't want any more disturbance on this 
packet." 

As the captain left, Uncle Joe thanked Tom and the 
trappersi and joined them at their table, providing the 
refreshment most liked by the plainsmen, and the remi- 
niscences became so interesting that the little group 
scarcely noticed Tom arise and leave it. He was too rest- 
less to stay indoors and soon found a place to his liking 
on the deck below, near the bow, where he paced to and 
fro in the darkness, wrestling with a tumult of hopes 
and fears. Reaching one end of his beat, he wheeled 
and started back again, and as he passed the cabin door 
he suddenly stopped and peered at the figure framed in 
the opening, and tore off his hat, too surprised to speak. 

"Mr. Boyd?" came a soft, inquiring, and anxious 
voice. 

"Yes, Miss Cooper; but I thought you were fast 
asleep long ago ! " 

"I was," she replied; "but something that sounded 
like a shot awakened me, and thinking that it seemed to 
come from the card tables, I became fearful and dressed 
as hurriedly as I could in the dark. Is — is Uncle Joe 
— all right?" 

"In good health, good company, and in the best of 
spirits," replied Tom, smiling at how the last word might 
be interpreted. "I left him only a moment ago, swap- 
ping tales with some trappers." 

"But the shot. Surely it was a shot that awakened 
me?" 

Tom chuckled. "Sleeve pistol fell to the floor and 



INDIANS AND GAMBLERS 93 

went off accidentally," he explained. "Luckily no one 
was hurt, for the ball passed out of a window and went 
over the river. Are you warm enough? This wind is 
cutting." At her assent he took a step forward. " J/U 
see you to your room if you wish." 

"I'm too wide awake now to sleep for awhile," she 
replied, joining him. "Didn't the boat stop?" 

"Yes; two passengers went ashore in the yawl," he 
answered. " These packets are certainly accommodating 
and deserve patronage. Why, Miss Cooper, you're shiv- 
ering ! Are you sure you are warm enough ? " 

" Yes," she answered. " Something is bothering me. 
I don't know what it is. I wish we were at Independence 
though. Day and night this river fascinates me and 
almost frightens me. It is so swift, so treacherous, so 
changeful. It reminds me of some great cat, slipping 
through a jungle; and I can't throw the feeling off. If 
you don't mind, I'll join you in your sentry-go, you seem 
to give me the assurance I lack; but perhaps I'll interfere 
with your thoughts ? " 

"Hardly that," he laughed, thrilling as she took hi,, 
arm for safety against stumbles in the dark. "You 
stimulate them, instead. I really was pacing off a fit ot 
restlessness; but it's gone now. Look here; I wonder if 
you fully realize the certain hardships and probable 
dangers of the overland journey you are about to 
make?" 

"Perfectly, Mr. Boyd," she answered, quietly. 
" You'll find me a different person on land. I underesti- 
mate nothing, but hope for the best. From little things 
I've picked up here and there I really believe that the 
dangers of the trail will be incidental when compared 



94 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

with those at the other end — at Santa Fe. I have reason 
to believe that father has had a great deal of trouble, 
along" with other Americans, with Governor Armijo. 
Why is it that American citizens are insulted with im- 
punity by Mexican officials ? I understand that an Eng- 
lishman may safely travel from one end of Mexico to 
the other, secure from annoyance, unless it be at the 
hands of Indians over whom the government exercises 
but little control." 

"It's a universal complaint along the frontier," he 
replied. "It seems to be the policy of this country to 
avoid hurting the sensibilities of any vicious officialdom 
or ignorant populace. We seem to prefer to have our 
citizens harassed, insulted, and denied justice, rather 
than assert unequivocally that the flag goes in spirit with 
every one of us so long as we obey the laws of any 
country we are in. If it were not for the banding togeth- 
er of the American traders and merchants in Santa Fe, 
it would be very hazardous for an American to remain 
there. Armijo has had a few clashes with our people 
and is beginning to have a little respect for their deter- 
mination and ability to defend their rights. Since the 
sufferings of the Texans have become known, there are 
any number of Americans in frontier garb who would 
cheerfully choke him to death. It would be a godsend 
to the New Mexican people if " 

There came a terrific crash, the boat stopped suddenly 
and the deck arose under their feet as a huge log smashed 
up through it. They were torn apart and thrown down, 
and as Tom scrambled to his feet, calling his com- 
panion's name, he felt a great relief surge through him 
as he heard her answer. 



CHAPTER VII 

THE WRECKING OE THE MISSOURI BELLE 

TOM grasped his companion's arm and hurried her 
toward the place where the yawl was tied as shouts, 
curses, tearing wood and a panic-stricken crowd of pas- 
sengers pouring out of the cabins and rooms turned the 
night into a pandemonium, over which the hysterical 
blasts of the whistle bellowed its raucous calls for help 
far and wide across water and land. There came a rush 
of feet and several groups of passengers dashed toward 
the yawl, but stopped abruptly and hesitated as the Colt 
in Tom's hand glinted coldly in the soft light of a cabin 
window. 

"Women first!" he snarled, savage as an animal at 
bay. " I'll kill th' first man that comes any closer ! Get 
those bullboats overside, an' somebody round up th' other 
women an' bring 'em here ! Keep cool, an' everybody'll 
be saved — lose yore heads an' we'll all die, some quick- 
er'n others ! Not another step forward ! " 

" Right ye air, friend," said a voice, and Zack, pistol 
in hand, dropped from the deck above and alighted at 
Tom's side like a fighting bobcat. " Put over them bull- 
boats — an' be shore ye get hold o' th' ropes when ye da 
Lady!" he shouted, catching sight of an emigrant and 
his wife. "Come hyar! An' you," he commanded her 
husband, "stan by us — shoot ter kill if ye pulls trigger. 
Fine bunch o' cattle!" he sneered, and the rapidly grow- 



96 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

ing crowd, finding that the guns facing them did noi 
waver, turned and stampeded for the bullboats, every 
man of it bellowing orders and getting in the way of 
everyone else. There came a splash, a chorus of curses 
as a bullboat, thrown overboard upside down, slipped 
away in the darkness. 

"Right side up, ye tarnation fools!" roared a voice, 
accompanied by a solid smash as a hunter near the boats 
knocked down a frantic freighter and took charge of the 
mob. "I'm fixin' fer to kill somebody!" he yelled. 
" Hang outer that rope or I'll spatter yer brains all over 
creation! Right side up, damn ye! Hold her! Thar! 
Now then, put over another — if ye git in that boat till 
I says so ye won't have no need fer it!" 

Friends coming to his aid helped him hold the milling 
mob, and their coolness and determination, tried in many 
ticklish situations, stood them in good stead. 

"Ask th' captain how bad she is!" shouted Tom as 
he caught sight of Joe Cooper tearing through the crowd 
like a madman. "I got Patience an' another woman 
here!" 

" I might 'a' known it," yelled Uncle Joe, fighting back 
the way he had come. In a moment he returned and 
shouted until the frantic crowd gave him heed. " Cap'n 
says she can't sink ! Cap'n says she can't sink ! Listen, 
damn ye! Cap'n says she can't sink. He's groundin' 
her on a bar ! Keep 'em out of them boats, boys ! Don't 
let them fools get in th' boats! Not till th' very last 
thing! They'll only swamp 'em." 

"Good fer you, St. Louis!" roared a mountaineer, 
playing with a skinning knife in most suggestive manner. 

" Th' boilers'U blow up ! Th' boilers'll blow up! Look 



THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 97 

out for th' boilers ! " yelled a tenderfoot, fighting to get 
to the boats. "They'll blow up! They'll blow " 

Zack took one swift step sideways and brought the 
butt of his pistol down on the jumping jack's head- 
" Let 'em blow, sister ! " he shouted. " You won't hear 
'em ! Any more scared o' th' boilers ? " he yelled, facing 
the crowd menacingly. "They won't blow up till th' 
water gits to 'em, an' when it does we'll all be knee-deep 
in it. Thar on this hyar deck, ye sheep! " 

One man was running around in a circle not five feet 
across, moaning and blubbering. Tom glanced at him 
as he came around and stepped quickly forward, his 
foot streaking out and up. It caught the human pin- 
wheel on the chest and he turned a beautiful back flip 
into the crowd. Zack's booming laugh roared out over the 
water and he slapped Tom resoundingly on the shoulder. 

" More fun right hyar than in a free-fer-all at a winter 
rendyvoo, pardner. You kick wuss nor a mule. An' 
whar you goin' ? " he asked a tin-horn gambler who took 
advantage of his lapse of alertness to dart past him. 
Zack swung his stiff arm and the gambler bounced back 
as though he had been struck with a club. " That's 
plenty o' it hyar if yer lookin' fer it," he shouted, raising 
his pistol. 

Uncle Joe clawed his way back again, Tom's double- 
barreled rifle in his hands, and grimly took his place at 
his friend's side. Suddenly he cocked his head and then 
heard Tom's voice bellow past his ear. 

"Listen, you fools! Th' fur boat! Th' fur boat!" 
he yelled at the top of his lungs. His companions and 
the other little group of resolute men took up the cry, 
and as the furor of the crowd died down, the answering 



98 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

blasts rolled up the river. Suddenly a light, and then an 
orderly series of them pushed out from behind the last 
bend down-stream, and showers of sparks from the 
belching stacks of the oncoming fur company boat danced 
and whirled high into the night, the splashing tattoo of her 
churning paddles sounding like music between the reassur- 
ing blasts of her whistle. The two stokers hanging from 
the levers of her safety valves kicked their feet in time 
with her whistle, not knowing which kick would usher 
them on an upward journey ending at St. Peter's eager 
gate. Their skins were as black as the rods they swung 
from, but their souls were as white as their rolling eyes. 

"Thank God!" screamed a woman who was fighting 
her way through the crowd toward Tom's post, her 
dothing nearly torn from her; and at the words she 
sagged to the deck, inert, unresisting. Tom leaped for- 
ward and hauled her back with him, passed her on to 
Patience and resumed his grim guard. 

A great shout, still tinged with horror and edged with 
fear, arose from the decks of the Belle and thundered 
across the river, the answering roar chopped up by the 
insistent whistle. Several red, stringy, rapier-like flashes 
pierced the night and the heavy reports barked across 
the hurrying water, to be juggled by a great cliff on the 
north bank. 

Captain Newell had been busy. Learning that cool 
minds were dominating the panicky crowd, and that the 
bullboats were being properly launched and were ready 
for use if the worst came, he gave his undivided attention 
to the saving of the Belle. Her paddle still thrashed, 
but at a speed just great enough to overcome the current 
and to hold the snag in the wound it had made. Expe- 



THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 99 

rience told him that once she drew back from that sHmy 
assassin blade and fully opened the rent in her hull her 
sinking would follow swiftly. Already men had sounded 
the river on both sides and reported a steep slant to 
the bottom, twenty feet of water on the port side and 
fifteen on. the starboard. One of the spare yawls, 
manned by two officers and a deck hand, shot away from 
the boat and made hurried soundings to starboard, the 
called depths bringing a look of hope to the captain's 
face. Forty yards to the right lay a nearly flat bar ; but 
could he make that forty yards? There remained no 
choice but to try, for while the Missouri Belle, if she 
sank in her present position, would not be entirely sub- 
merged, she would be even less so every foot she made 
toward the shallows. 

Part of the crew already had weighted one edge of a 
buffalo hide and stood in the bow, directly over the snag, 
which luckily had pierced the hull more above than below 
the water line. The captain signalled and the great 
paddle wheel turned swiftly full speed astern. The 
grating, splitting sound of the snag leaving the hull was 
followed by a shouted order and the hide was lowered 
overside and instantly sucked against the rent; and the 
paddle wheel, quickly reversing, pushed the boat ahead 
at an angle to the current until, low in the water, she 
grounded solidly on the edge of the flat bar. Anchors 
were set and cables made taut while the Belle settled 
firmly on the sandy bottom and rested almost on an even 
keel. There she would stay if the river continued to 
fall, until the rent was fully exposed and repaired; and 
there she would stay, repaired, until another rise floated 
her. The captain signalled for the paddles to stop and 



loo "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

then drew a heavy arm across his forehead, sighed, and 
turned to face the fur company packet. 

The passengers were becoming calm by stages, but the 
cahii was largely the reaction of hysteria for a few mo- 
ments until common sense walled up the breach. Every 
eye now watched the oncoming steamboat, which had 
sailed doggedly ahead for the past two nights and days 
while the Belle had loitered against the banks. Even the 
most timid were now calmed by the sight of her lighted 
cabins as she ploughed toward her stricken sister. Fear- 
ful of the snag, she came to a stop when nearly abreast 
of the Belle and the two captains held a short and shouted 
conversation. Her yawl soon returned and reported 
the water safe, but shoaling rapidly; and at this infor- 
mation she turned slightly oblique to the current and, 
sounding every few feet, crept up to within two gang- 
planks' reach of the Belle and anchored bow and stern. 
Her own great landing stage swung out over the cheated 
waters and hung poised while that of the Belle circled 
out to meet it, waveringly, as though it had lost a valu- 
able sense. They soon touched, were made to coincide and 
then lashed securely together. At once, women first, the 
passengers of the Belle began to cross the arched span a 
few at a time, and sighed with relief as they reached the 
deck of the uninjured vessel. On the main deck of the 
Belle the crew already was piling up such freight as could 
be taken from the hold and the sound of hammering at 
her bow told of temporary repairs being made. 

Among the last to leave the Belle were Uncle Joe and 
Tom and as they started toward the gangplank. Captain 
Newell hurriedly passed them, stopped, retraced his steps, 
and gripped their hands tightly as he wished them a safe 



THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE loi 

arrival at Independence. Then he plunged out of sight 
toward the engine room. 

The transfer completed, the fur company boat cast 
free, raised her anchors, and sidled cautiously back into 
the channel. Blowing a hoarse salute, she straightened 
out into the current and surged ahead, apparently in 
no way daunted by the fate of her sister. Captain 
Graves had commanded a heavily loaded boat when he 
left St. Louis and the addition of over a hundred passen- 
gers and their personal belongings, for whom some sort 
of provision must be made in sleeping arrangements and 
food, urged him to get to Independence Landing as 
quickly as he could. Turning from his supervision of 
the housing of the gangplank, he bumped into Uncle 
Joe, was about to apologize, and then peered into the 
face of his new passenger. The few lights which had 
been placed on deck to help in the transfer of the passen- 
gers, enabled him to recognize the next to the last man 
across the plank and his greeting was sharp and friendly. 

" Joe Cooper, or I'm blind ! " he exclaimed. " Alone, 
Joe?" 

"Got my niece with me, and my friend, Tom Boyd, 
here." 

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Boyd — seems to me I've 
heard something about a Tom Boyd fouling the official 
craft of the Government of New Mexico," said the 
captain, shaking hands with the young plainsman. " We'll 
do our best for you-all the rest of the night, and we'll 
put Miss Cooper in my cabin. We ought to reach Inde- 
pendence early in the morning. I suppose that's your 
destination? Take you on to Westport just as easily." 

" Independence is where I started for," said Uncle Joe. 



102 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

" Then we'll put you ashore there, no matter what the 
condition of the landing is. It's easier to land passen- 
gers than cargo. But let me tell you that if you are 
aiming to go in business there, that Westport is the com- 
ing town since the river ruined the lower landing. Let's 
see if the cook's got any hot coffee ready, and a bite to 
eat: he's had time enough, anyhow. Come on. First 
we'll find Miss Cooper and the other women. I had them 
all taken to one place. Come on." 

Shortly after dawn Tom awakened, rose on one elbovtr 
on the blanket he had thrown on the deck and looked 
around. Uncle Joe snored softly and rhythmically on 
his hard bed, having refused to rob any man of his berth. 
He had accepted one concession, however, by throwing 
his blanket on the floor of the texas, where he not only 
would be close to his niece, but removed from the other 
men of the Belle, many of whom were not at all reassur- 
ing in the matter of personal cleanliness. Arising, Tom 
went to a window and looked out, seeing a clear sky and 
green, rolling hills and patches of timber bathed in the 
slanting sunlight. A close scrutiny of the bank apprised 
him that they were not far from Independence Landing and 
he stepped to the rail to look up the river. Far upstream 
on a sharp bend on the south bank were the remains of 
Old Fort Clark, as it was often called. About twenty 
miles farther on the same side of the river was his des- 
tination. He turned to call Uncle Joe and met the 
captain at the door of the texas; and he thought he 
caught a glimpse of a head bobbing back behind the 
corner of the cabin. As he hesitated as to whether to 
go and verify his eyes, the captain accosted him, and he 
stood where he was. 



THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 105 

" Fine day, Mr. Boyd," said the officer. " Sleep well 
on the soft side of the deck? " 

Tom laughed. "I can sleep well any place, captain. 
If I could have scooped out a hollow for my hips I 
wouldn't feel quite so stiff." 

"Let me know as soon as Miss Cooper appears and 
ril have some breakfast sent up to hen If you'd like 
a bite now, come with me." 

" Thank you ; you are very considerate. I'll call Uncle 
Joe and bring him with me." 

" You will, hey ? " said a voice from the texas. " Uncle 
Joe is ready right now, barring the aches of his old bones ; 
and I've just been interrupted by Patience. She says 
she can chew chunks out of the cups, she's so hungry. 
What's that? You didn't? All right; all right; I'm 
backing up again! Have it your own way; you will,, 
anyhow, in the end. " 

" You stay right where you are. Miss Cooper," called 
the captain. " I'll send up breakfast enough for six, and 
if you keep an eye on this pair perhaps you can get a 
bit of it. And let me tell you that it's lucky that you're 
real hungry, for the fare on this boat is even worse than 
it was on the Belle. I'll go right down and look to it." 

Breakfast over, the three went out to explore the boat, 
Patience taking interest in its human cargo, especially 
its original passengers, and she had a good chance to 
observe them during the absence of the rescued passen- 
gers of the Belle, to whom had been given the courtesy 
of the first use of the dining-room. 

Almost all of the original list on this boat were con- 
nected in some way with the fur trade, the exceptions 
being a few travelers bound for the upper Missouri, and 



I04 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

two noncommissioned officers going out to Fort Leaven- 
worth, who had missed the Belle at St. Louis, missed her 
again at St. Charles, and had been taken aboard by Cap- 
tain Graves, who would have to stop at the Fort for 
inspection. 

The others covered all the human phases of the fur 
business and included one bourgeois, or factor; two par- 
tisans, or heads of expeditions; several clerks, numerous 
hunters and trappers, both free and under contract to the 
company; half a dozen "pork-eaters," who were green 
hands engaged for long periods of service by the com- 
pany and bound to it almost as tightly and securely as 
though they were slaves. Some of them found this to 
be true, when they tried to desert, later on. They were 
called "pork-eaters" because the term now meant about 
the same as the word " tenderfeet," and its use came from 
the habit of the company to import green hands from 
Canada under contracts which not only made them slaves 
for five years, but almost always left them in the com- 
pany's debt at the expiration of their term of service. 
On the way from Canada they had been fed on a simple 
and monotonous diet, its chief article being pork; and 
gradually the expression came to be used among the more 
experienced voyageurs to express the abstract idea of 
greenness. There were camp-keepers, voyageurs, a crew 
of keelboatmen going up to the " navy yard " above Fort 
Union and two skilled boat-builders bound for the same 
place; artisans, and several Indians returning either to 
one of the posts or to their own country. They made a 
picturesque assemblage, and their language, being Indian, 
English, and French, or rather, combinations of all three, 
was not less so than their appearance. Over them all the 



THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 105 

bully of the boat, who had reached his semi-official 
position through elimination by consent and by combat, 
exercised a more or less orderly supervision as to their 
bickerings and general behavior, and relieved the boat's 
officers of much responsibility. 

The boat stopped a few minutes at Liberty Landing 
and then went on, rounding the nearly circular bend, and 
as the last turn was made and the steamboat headed 
westward again there was a pause in the flurry which had 
been going on among the rescued passengers ever since 
Liberty Landing had been left. Independence Landing 
was now close at hand and the eager crowd marked time 
until the bank should be reached. 

Soon the boat headed in toward what was left of the 
once fine landing, its slowly growing ruin being responsible 
for the rising importance of the little hamlet of Westport 
not far above, and for the later and pretentious Kansas 
City which was to arise on the bluff behind the little 
frontier village. Independence was losing its importance 
as a starting point for the overland traffic in the same 
way that she had gained it. First it had been Franklin, 
then Fort Osage, then Blue Mills, and then Independence ; 
but now, despite its commanding position on one of the 
highest bluffs along the river and its prestige from being 
the county seat, the latter was slowly settling in the back- 
ground and giving way to Westport; but it was not to 
give up at once, nor entirely, for the newer terminals 
had to share their prominence with it, and until the end 
of the overland traffic Independence played its part. 

The landing was a busy place. Piles of cordwood and 
freight, the latter in boxes, barrels, and crates, flanked the 
landing on three sides; several kinds of new wagons in 



io6 "BRmG ME HIS EARS" 

various stages of assembling were scenes of great activ- 
ity. Most of these were from Pittsburg and had come 
all the way by water. A few were of the size first used 
on the great trail, with a capacity of about a ton and a 
half; but most were much larger and could carry nearly 
twice as much as the others. Great bales of Osnaburg 
sheets, or wagon covers, were in a pile by themselves, 
glistening white in their newness. It appeared that the 
cargo of the John Auld had not yet been transported up 
the bluff to the village on the summit. 

The landing became very much alive as the fur com- 
pany's boat swung in toward it, the workers who hourly 
expected the Missouri Belle crowding to the water's edge 
to welcome the rounding boat, whose whistle early had 
apprised them that she was stopping. Free negroes 
romped and sang, awaiting their hurried tasks under 
exacting masters, the bosses of the gangs; but this time 
there was to be no work for them. Vehicles of all 
kinds, drawn by oxen, mules, and horses, made a solid 
phalanx around the freight piles, among them the wagons 
of Aull and Company, general outfitters for all kinds of 
overland journeys. The narrow, winding road from the 
water front up to and onto the great bluff well back from 
the river was sticky with mud and lined with struggling 
teams pulling heavy loads. 

When the fur company boat drew near enough for 
those on shore to see its unusual human cargo, both as 
to numbers and kinds, conjecture ran high. This hardy 
traveler of the whole navigable river was no common 
packet, stopping almost any place to pick up any person 
who waved a hat, but a supercilious thoroughbred which 
forged doggedly into the vast wilderness of the upper 



THE WRECKING OF THE MISSOURI BELLE 107 

river. Even her curving swing in toward the bank was 
made with a swagger and hinted at contempt for any- 
landing under a thousand miles from her starting point. 

Shouts rang across the water and were followed by 
great excitement on the bank. Because of the poor con- 
dition of the landing she worked her way inshore with 
unusual care and when the great gangplank finally 
bridged the gap her captain nodded with relief. In a few 
moments, her extra passengers ashore, she backed out 
into the hurrying stream and with a final blast of her 
whistle, pushed on up the river. 

Friends met friends, strangers advised strangers, and 
the accident to the Belle was discussed with great gusto. 
Impatiently pushing out of the vociferous crowd, Joe 
Cooper and his two companions swiftly found a Dear- 
born carriage which awaited them and, leaving their 
baggage to follow in the wagon of a friend, started along 
the deeply rutted, prairie road for the town; Schoolcraft, 
his partner, and his Mexican friend sloping along behind 
them on saddle horses through the lane of mud. The 
trip across the bottoms and up the great bluff was weari- 
some and tiring. They no sooner lurched out of one rut 
than they dropped into another, with the mud and water 
often to the axles, and they continually were forced to 
climb out of the depressed road and risk upsettings on the 
steep, muddy banks to pass great wagons hopelessly 
mired, notwithstanding their teams of from six to a 
dozen mules or oxen. Mud-covered drivers shouted and 
swore from their narrow seats, or waded about their 
wagons up to the middle in the cold ooze. If there was 
anything worse than a prairie road in the spring, these 
wagoners had yet to learn of it. 



CHAPTER VIII 

THE NEW SIX-GUN 

INDEPENDENCE was alive all over, humming with 
business, its muddy streets filled with all kinds of 
vehicles drawn by various kinds and numbers of animals. 
Here a three-yoke ox team pulled stolidly, there a four- 
mule team balked on a turn, and around them skittish or 
dispirited horses carried riders or drew high-seated 
carriages. The motley crowd on foot picked its way as 
best it could. Indians in savage garb passed Indians in 
civilization's clothes, or mixtures of both; gamblers 
rubbed elbows with emigrants and made overtures to 
buckskin-covered trappers and hunters just in from the 
prairies and mountains, many of whom were going up 
to Westport, their main rendezvous. Traders came into 
and went from Aull and Company's big store, wherein 
was everything the frontier needed. Behind it were cor- 
rals filled with draft animals and sheds full of carts and, 
wagons. 

Boisterous traders and trappers, in all stages of drunk- 
enness, who thought nothing of spending their season's 
profits in a single week if the mood struck them, were 
still coming in from the western foothills, valleys, and 
mountains, their loud conversations replete with rough 
phrases and such names as the South Park, Bent's Fort, 
The Pueblo, Fort Laramie, Bayou Salade, Brown's Hole, 
and others. Many of them so much resembled Indians 
io8 



THE NEW SIX-GUN 109 

as to leave a careless observer in doubt. Some were 
driving mules almost buried under their two packs, each 
pack weighing about one hundred pounds and containing 
eighty-odd beaver skins, sixty-odd otter pelts or the 
equivalent number in other skins. Usually they arrived 
in small parties, but here and there was a solitary trapper. 
The skins would be sold to the outfitting merchants and 
would establish a credit on which the trapper could draw 
until time to outfit and go off on the fall hunt. Had he 
sold them to some far, outlying post he would have 
received considerably less for them and have paid from 
two hundred to six hundred per cent more for the articles 
he bought. As long as there was nothing for him to do 
in his line until fall set in, he might just as well spend 
some of the time on the long march to the frontier, risk- 
ing the loss of his goods, animals, and perhaps his life 
in order to get better prices and enjoy a change of 
scene. 

The county seat looked good to him after his long 
stay in the solitudes. Pack and wagon trains were com- 
ing and going, some of the wagons drawn by as many 
as a dozen or fifteen yokes of oxen. All was noise, 
confusion, life at high pressure, and made a fit surround- 
ing for his coming carousal ; and here was all the liquor 
he could hope to drink, of better quality and at better 
prices, guarantees of which, in the persons of numerous 
passers-by, he saw on many sides. 

Rumors of all kinds were afloat, most of them concern- 
ing hostile Indians lying in wait at certain known danger 
spots along the trails, and of the hostile acts of the 
Mormons; but the Alormons were behind and the trail 
was ahead, and the rumors of its dangers easily took 



no "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

precedence. It was reported that the first caravan, al- 
ready on the trail and pressing hard on the heels of 
spring, was being escorted by a force of two hundred 
United States dragoons, the third time in the history of 
the Santa Fe trade that a United States military escort 
had been provided. Dangers were magnified, dangers 
were scorned, dangers were courted, depending upon the 
nature of the men relating them. There were many noisy 
iire-eaters who took their innings now, in the security 
of the town, who would become as wordless, later on, 
as some of the tight-lipped and taciturn frontiersmen 
were now. Greenhorns from the far-distant East were 
proving their greenness by buying all kinds of useless 
articles, which later they would throw away one by one, 
and were armed in a manner befitting buccaneers of the 
Spanish Main. To them, easiest of all, were old and 
heavy oxen sold, animals certain to grow footsore and 
useless by the time they had covered a few hundred 
miles. They bought anything and everything that any 
wag suggested, and there were plenty of wags on hand. 
The less they knew the more they talked ; and experienced 
caravan travelers shook their heads at sight of them, 
recognizing in them the most prolific and hardest work- 
ing trouble-makers in the whole, long wagon train. Here 
and there an invalid was seen, hoping that the long trip 
in the open would restore health, and in many cases the 
hopes became realizations. 

Joseph Cooper installed his niece in the best hotel the 
town afforded and went off to see about his wagons and 
goods, while Tom Boyd hurried to a trapper's retreat 
to find his partner and his friends. The retreat was 
crowded with frontiersmen and traders, among whom he 



THE NEW SIX-GUN i^ 

recognized many acquaintances. He no sooner had en- 
tered the place than he was soundly slapped on the 
shoulder and turned to exchange grins with his best 
friend, Hank Marshall, who forthwith led him to a cor- 
ner where a small group was seated around a table, and 
where he found Jim Ogden and Zeb Houghton, two 
trapper friends of his who were going out to Bent's 
trading post on the Arkansas ; Enoch Birdsall and Alonzo 
Webb, two veteran traders, and several others who would 
be identified with the next caravan to leave. 

"Thar's one of them danged contraptions, now!" 
exclaimed Birdsall, pointing to the holster swinging from 
Tom's broad belt. " I don't think much o' these hyar new- 
fangled weapons we're seein' more an' more every year. 
An' cussed if he ain't got a double-bar'l rifle, too ! Dang 
it, Tom, don't put all yer aigs in one basket; ain't ye 
keepin' no weapons ye kin be shore on ? " 

"Thar both good, Enoch," replied Tom, smiling 
broadly. 

" Shore they air," grunted Birdsall's partner. " Enoch 
don't reckon nothin's no good less'n it war foaled in th' 
Revolutionary War, an' has got whiskers like a Mormon 
bishop. Fust he war dead sot ag'in steamboats; said 
they war flyin' in th' face o' Providence an' wouldn't 
work, nohow. Then he said it war plumb foolish ter try 
ter take waggins inter Santer Fe. Next he war dead sot 
ag'in mules fer anythin' but packin'. Now he's cold ter 
caps an' says flints war made 'special by th' Lord fer ter 
strike fire with — hut, he rides on th' steamboats when he 
gits th' chanct; he's taken waggins clean ter Chihuahua, 
drivin' mules ter 'em; an' he's sorter hankerin' fer ter 
use caps, though he won't admit it open. Let him alone 



112 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

an' watch him try ter borrer yer new pistol when th' 
Injuns try ter stampede th' animals. He's a danged old 
fool in his talk, but you jest keep an eye on him. Thar, 
I've said my say." 

" An' a danged long say it war ! " snorted Enoch, bel- 
ligerently. "It stands ter reason that thar pistol can't 
shoot 'em out o' one bar'l plumb down the dead center of 
another every time! An' suppose ye want ter use a 
double charge o' powder, whar ye goin' ter put it in 
them danged little holes ? Suppose yer caps hang fire — ■ 
what then, I want ter know ? " 

"S'posin' th' wind blows th' primin' out o' yer pan?" 
queried Zeb. " S'posin' ye lose your flint? S'posin' yer 
powder ain't no good? S'posin' ye ram down th' ball 
fust, like ye did that time them Crows tried ter lift 
our cache. Fine mess ye nigh made o' that! Onct ye 
start thar ain't no end o' s'posin', nohow. Caps is all 
right, / use 'em ! " 

"He uses 'em!" chuckled Enoch. "Ain't that a sen- 
sible answer? Caps is all right, if /^^ uses 'em ! Danged 
if he don't make me laugh : but he's a good ol' beaver, 
at that, Zeb is. As fur rammin' down th' ball fust, that 
time; he never told ye about how he swallered a hull 
mouthful o' balls when Singin' Fox sent a arrer through 
his cap, did he?" 

Zeb looked a little self-conscious. "Beaver's shore 
gittin' scarce," he said. 

"Thar's a passel o* Oregoners rendyvouin' out ter 
Round Grove," said Hank. "If we're goin' with 'em 
we better jine 'em purty quick." 

Tom shook his head. "I'm aimin fer th' Arkansas 
this trip. Goin' ter try it onct more." 



THE NEW SIX-GUN iig 

Hank's jaw dropped. "Thar!" he snorted. "Kin ye 
beat that?" 

"Glad ter hear it," said Jim Ogden. "We'll be with 
ye fur's th' Crossin'; but ain't ye gamblin', Tom?" 

" Armijo shore will run up th' flags an' order out his- 
barefoot army," said Hank, grimly, "if he larns o' it. 
An' he'll mebby need th' army, too." 

" He'll larn o' it," declared Birdsall. " Thar's a passel 
o* greasers goin' over th' trail with us — an' shore as 
shootin' some o' 'em will go ahead with th' news arter 
we reach th' Cimarron. Don't be a danged fool, Tom;, 
you better go 'long th' Platte with th' emigrants." 

" Can't do it," replied Tom. "I've give my word an* 
I'm goin' through ter Santa Fe. Armijo'll larn o' it, 
all right. I've seen signs o' that already. Some greaser 
fanned a knife at me on th' boat; but I couldn't larn 
nothin' more about it." 

"Dang my hide if I ain't got a good notion ter let 
ye go alone ! " snorted Hank, whereat a roar of laughter 
arose. It seemed that he was very well known. 

" I'll see how things bust," said Ogden. " I war aimin*^ 
fer Bent's, but thar ain't no use o' gittin' thar much 
afore fall." He thought a moment, and then slammed 
his hand on the table. " I'm goin' with ye, Tom ! " 

"Talkin' like a blind fool!" growled Zeb Houghton, 
his inseparable companion. "I'm startin' fer th' fort, 
an' I'm goin' thar! If you ain't got no sense, / has!'* 

Hank laughed and winked at the others. "I'll go 
with ye, Zeb. Me an' you'll go thar together an' let these 
two fools git stood up ag'in a wall. Sarve 'em right if he 
cuts 'em up alive. We'll ask him ter send us thar earSj^ 
fer ter remember 'em by." 



114 "BRING ME HIS EARS** 

Zeb's remarks about the Governor of New Mexico 
caused every head in the room to turn his way, and called 
forth a running fire of sympathetic endorsements. He 
banged the table with his fists. "Hank Marshall, ye 
got more brains nor I has, but I got ter go 'long an' keep 
that pore critter out o' trouble. HI don't he'll lose hoss 
nn' beaver!" 

A stranger sauntered over, grinned at them and slid 
a revolving Colt pistol on the table. "Thar, boys," he 
said. " Thar's what ye need if yer goin' ter Santer Fe. 
I'm headin' fer home, back east. What'll ye give me fer 
it, tradin' in yer old pistol? Had a run o' cussed bad 
luck last night, an' I need boat fare. Who wants it?" 

Enoch Birdsall and Hank Marshall both reached for 
it, but Hank was the quicker. He looked it over care- 
fully and then passed it to his partner. " What ye think 
o' her, Tom?" he asked. 

After a moment's scrutiny Tom nodded and gave it 
back. " Looks brand new. Hank. Good pistol. I tried 
mine out on th' boat comin' up. They shoot hard an' 
straight." 

Hank looked up at the stranger and shook his head 
deprecatingly, starting the preliminary to a long, hard- 
driven barter; but he hadn't reckoned on Birdsall, the 
skeptic. 

" Ten dollars an' this hyar pistol," said Enoch quickly. 

"Wall!" exclaimed Hank, staring at him. "Dang 
ye ! Eleven dollars an' this pistol ! " 

" Twelve," placidly said Enoch. 

" Twelve an' a half ! " snapped Hank. 

"An' three quarters." 

" Thirteen ! " growled Hank, trying to hide his misery. 



THE NEW SIX-GUN 115 

Enoch raised again and, a quarter at a time, they ran 
the price up to sixteen dollars, Enoch bidding with Yan- 
kee caution and reluctance. Hank with a stubborn de- 
termination not to let his friend get ahead of him. One 
was a trader, shrewd and thrifty; the other, a trapper, 
which made it a game between a canny barterer on one 
side and a reckless spender on the other. At twenty- 
three dollars Birdsall quit, spat angrily at a box, and 
scowled at his excited companion, who was counting the 
money onto the table. Hank glared at Enoch, jammed 
the Colt in his belt and bit savagely into a plug of to- 
bacco, while the stranger, hiding his smile, bowed 
ironically and left them; and in a moment he was back 
again with another Colt. 

" I knowed it ! " mourned Hank. " Dang ye, Enoch ! '*^ 

" Boys," said the stranger, sadly, " my friend is in th*' 
same fix that I am. He is willin' ter part with his Colt 
for th' same money an' another old fashioned pistol. His 
mother's dyin' in St. Louie an' he's got ter git back ter 
her." 

" Too danged bad it ain't him, an' you," snorted Hank. 

Jim Ogden held out his hand, took the weapon and 
studied it. Quietly handing over his own pistol and the 
money, he held out his other hand, empty. " Whar's th' 
mold; an' some caps?" 

"Wall," drawled the stranger, rubbing his chin. 
"They don't go with th' weapons — they're separate. 
Cost ye three dollars fer th' mold; an' th' caps air twa 
dollars a box o' two hundred." 

"Then hand her back ag'in an' take th' Colt," said 
Ogden, slowly arising. "Think I'm goin' ter whittle, 
or chew bullets fer it? Neither one of them guns haa 



ii6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

■even been used. Thar bran' new, an' with 'em goes th* 
mold. Jest because I've spent a lot o' my days up on 
Green River ain't sayin' I'm green. They named it 
that because I left my greenness than" 

" Th' caps air extry," said the vendor of Colt pistols. 

"Ain't said nothin' about no caps, yit," retorted 
Ogden. " I'm talkin' molds. Gimme one, an' give Hank 
one; or ye'll both shore as hell miss his mother's 
funeral." 

The stranger complied, sold some caps and left the sa- 
loon in good humor ; but he had not been gone two min- 
utes before Enoch hastily arose and pleaded that he had 
to meet a man; and when they saw him again he had a 
newfangled contraption in a holster at his belt. 

Hank carelessly opened his mold and glanced at it. 
** Pinted ! " he exclaimed. 

Tom explained swiftly and reassured his friends, and 
then suggested that they go down to a smithy owned by 
a mutual friend, and run some bullets. **We better do 
it while we're thinkin' about it, an' have th' time," 
he added. 

"Got lots o' time," said Ogden. "Be three weeks 
afore th' second caravan starts. Thar's two goin' out 
this year. If 'twarn't fer th' early warm weather on th' 
prairies th' fust wouldn't 'a' left yet. Th' grass is comin' 
-up fast." 

"Thar's some waggins o' th' second game out ter 
Council Grove already," said Alonzo Webb "They 
wanted me an' Enoch ter go 'long with 'em, but we 
couldn't see th' sense o' leavin' town so fur ahead o' 
time, an' totin' that much more grub. 'Sides, th' roads'll 
be better, mebby, later on." 



THE NEW SIX-GUN 117 

The smith welcomed them and they used his fire during 
the lulls in his business. 

" Hear Zachary Woodson's goin' out with eight wag- 
gins this year," he told them. " Missed th' fust caravan. 
Says he'll be tetotally cussed if he's goin' ter be captain 
ag'in this year." 

" That's what he says every year," grunted Alonzo. 

"He'll be captain if we has th' say-so," replied Hank. 
"Only thing, he's a mite too easy with th' fools; but 
thar's goin' ter be less squabblin' about obeyin' orders 
this trip than ever afore. We'll see ter that." 

While they discussed matters pertaining to the cara- 
van, and ran bullets, listening to the gossip of the smith'3 
customers, they saw Uncle Joe and his two wagoners 
driving his mules toward the shop to have them re-shod, 
They shook hands all around and soon Uncle Joe, grin- 
ning from ear to ear, told them that he was going out 
with the caravan. He was as tickled as a boy with a new 
knife. 

"Just as I feared," he said in explanation. "I 
couldn't find any trader that was takin' any of his women 
folks along; so there was only one way out of it. I got 
to go. An' I don't mind tellin' you boys that it suits me 
clean down to th' ground. Anyhow, all I wanted was 
an excuse. I got a light wagon for Patience an' rae an' 
our personal belongings, an' I'm goin' to drive it m.ysell 
Bein' th' only woman in th' caravan, fur as I know, it'll 
mebby be a little mite hard on her. Reckon she'll git 

ti'^nesome, 'specially since she's so danged purty." 
When the laughter died down Hank Marshall, shifting 
5 cud to the other cheek, looked from Uncle Joe to Tom 
.... 



Ii8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

"Wall," he drawled, "I war puzzled a little at fust, 
but now I reckon I'm gittin' th' hang o' this hyar thing. 
Tom war shore hell-bent fer ter go out ter Oregon this 
year." He paused, scratched his head, and grinned. 
** Reckon I kin drive them mules all by myself. 'Twon't 
be as though it war th' fust time I've done it." 

After a little good-natured banter Tom and Hank 
left the smithy to look after their affairs, for there was 
quite a lot to be done. The next few days would be 
busy ones for them both, but especially so for Tom, who 
was expected to share his company between Patience, 
Hank, and Uncle Joe. 

As they swung up the street Hank edged to cross it, 
pointing to Schoolcraft's corral. ** Might as well be 
gittin' th' mules afore thar all run over an' th' best took. 
If he kin skin me in a mule deal I'm willin' ter abide 
by it." 

" Not there," objected Tom. " I've had some trouble 
with him. I'll play pack animal myself before I'll buy 
a single critter from him." 

Hank shook with silent laughter. "Thafs whar he 
got it, huh ? " he exulted. " Cussed if he warn't trimmed 
proper. I might 'a' knowed it war you as done it by 
th' way it looked." He shook again and then became 
alert. "Thar he is now; an' his friends air with him. 
Keep yer primin' dry, boy." 

" I reckoned I could shake a laig," said a voice behind 
them, and they looked over their shoulders to see Jim 
Ogden at their heels, and close behind him came his 
partner; "but you two kiyotes plumb made me hoof it. 
What's yer hurry, anyhow?" 

The little group in front of the corral gate shifted in 



THE NEW SIX-GUN 119 

indecision and looked inquiringly at the horse-dealer. 
There was a difference between stirring up trouble be- 
tween themselves and Tom Boyd for the purpose of man- 
handling him, and stirring it up between themselves and 
the four trappers. 

Schoolcraft said something out of the corner of his 
mouth and the group melted away into the little shack 
at the corral gate. He remained where he was, scowling 
frankly at his enemy. 

" Looks like they war a-fixin' ter try it on us," growled 
Hank, returning the scowl with interest. "Let's go 
over an' say how-de-do ter 'em. This here town's been 
too peaceable, anyhow." 

"What's th' trouble?" asked Ogden, curiously, his 
partner pressing against him to hear the answer. 

" Ain't none," answered Tom. " Thar might 'a' been, 
but it's blowed over." 

"Wall," drawled Ogden. "Ye never kin tell about 
these hyar frontier winds. Yer th' partisan o' this hyar 
expedition, Tom. We'll foller yer lead. It's all one ter 
us whar ye go; we're with ye." 

Schoolcraft, knowing that trouble with these plains- 
men would almost certainly end in serious bloodshed, 
shrugged his shoulders and entered the shack; and after 
him, from behind the corral wall darted the slender 
Mexican. 

"Thar! " exclaimed Tom, pointing. " See that greaser? 
Keep yer eyes skinned fer him. He's bad medicine." 

" Looks like he war fixin' fer ambushin' us, hidin' 
behind that wall," growled Hank. 

" He's got a fine head o' hair ter peel," snorted Zeb 
Houghton, whose reputation in regard to scalp lifting 



I20 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

, _^ 

was anything but to his credit. The fingers of his left 
hand closed involuntarily with a curling motion and 
the wrist turned suggestively ; and the Mexican, well back 
from the dirty window of the shack, felt a rising of his 
stomach and was poor company for the rest of the day. 

The four swung on again, Ogden and his partner 
soon leaving the party to go to their quarters, while 
Tom and Hank went on along the street and stopped at 
another horse-dealer's, where they bought two riding 
horses and eight broken-in mules, the latter covered with 
scars. The horses were broken to saddle and would 
carry them over the trail; two of the mules were to carry 
their necessaries and the other six their small stock of 
merchandise, which they now set out to obtain. In pro- 
curing the latter they were very fortunate, for they found 
a greenhorn who had paid too much attention to rumors 
and had decided at the last moment that trail life 
and trading in the far west did not impress him very 
favorably; and he sold his stock to them almost at their 
own terms, glad to get out of his venture so easily. They 
took what they wanted of it and then sold the remainder 
at a price which nearly paid for their own goods. Leav- 
ing their purchases at Uncle Joe's wagons under the 
care of his teamsters, they went to his hotel to spend 
the night. 

After supper Hank, who had shown a restlessness 
very foreign to him, said that he was going out to take 
a walk and would return soon. When Tom offered to 
go with him he shook his head, grinned, and departed. 

The evening passed very pleasantly for Tom, who 
needed nothing more than Patience's presence to make 
him content, and after she had said good night he accom- 



THE NEW SIX-GUN i2r 

panied her uncle to the bar for a night-cap. As he 
entered the room he thought he saw a movement out- 
side the window, down in one corner of the sash, and 
he slipped to the door and peered out. As he cogitated 
about scouting around outside he heard Uncle Joe's voice 
calling to him over the noise of the crowd and he made 
his way back to the bar, drank to the success of the 
coming expedition, and engaged in small talk with his 
companion and those around them. But his thoughts 
were elsewhere, for Hank had been gone a long time. 

"Uncle Joe, how long have you known your wag- 
oners?" he asked. 

" Long enough to know 'em well." The trader re- 
garded him quizzically. " Not worryin' about your mer- 
chandise, are you?" 

" I'm wondering where Hank is." 

"In some trapper's rendezvous; he'll show up in th' 
mornin' with nothin' worse than a headache." 

"I'm not treating him right," soliloquized Tom. "A 
man shouldn't forget his friends, especially when they're 
as close as Hank is. I'm goin' lookin' for him. Good 
night." 

Uncle Joe watched him push his way directly through 
the crowd, leaving a few scowls in his wake, and pop out 
of the door ; and the older man nodded with satisfaction. 
" A man shouldn't, Tom, my boy," he muttered. " Stick 
to them that's stuck to you — always — forever — in 
spite of hell. That's good medicine." 

A tour of the places where trappers congregated was 
barren of results until he had reached the last of such 
resorts that he knew, and here he found Enoch Birdsall 
and Alonzo Webb, who welcomed him with such vocifer- 



122 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

ous greetings that he knew they had nearly reached the 
quarrelsome stage. To his inquiries as to the where- 
abouts of his partner they made boisterous replies, their 
laughter rattling the windows. 

"Or beaver's settin' a-top his house — no, 'tain't no 
house. Settin' a-top yer pile o' goods cached with 
Cooper's — you tell 'im," yelled Alonzo, slapping Enoch 
across the back and nearly knocking him out of the chair. 
"Youteirim, Ol' Buff'ler!" 

"Prairie hen on his nest is more like him" shouted 
Enoch, returning his friend's love tap with interest, 
whereupon Alonzo missed twice and fell to the floor. 

" Prairie hen on yer nose ! " yelled the prostrate trader, 
trying to swim toward his partner. "Thar ain't no 
prairie beaver as kin knock me down an' keep me thar! 
Stan' up like a man, ye polecat ! An' I kin lick you, too ! " 
he yelled, as Tom avoided his sweeping arm and hastened 
toward the door. "Better run! Better run! Git 'im 
Enoch, ye fool!" 

Tom did not reach the front door, for with astonishing 
speed and agility for one so far in his cups Enoch, taking 
up the quarrel of his friend, whom he presently would 
be fighting, leaped from the table, vaulted over a chair, 
and by some miracle of drunken equilibrium landed on 
his feet with his back to the door and swung both fists 
at the surprised plainsman. Tom's eyes glinted, and then 
twinkled. He had few better friends than these two 
quarrelsome traders and, stepping back, he leaped over 
the prostrate and anything but silent Alonzo and darted 
out through the back door, laughing at the furious squab- 
bling he left behind. Reaching the corner of the building, 
he fell into his habitual softness of tread and slipped 



THE NEW SIX-GUN 125 

along the rear of the shacks on a direct course for the 
place where his and Cooper's merchandise was stored. 
Schoolcraft's corral loomed up in front of him and he 
skirted it silently. He almost had reached its far corner 
when a Mexican's voice, raised in altercation inside the 
inclosure, caught his ear and checked him, balanced on 
one foot. 

"For why he do eet?" demanded the Mexican, ex- 
citedly. "I tol' heem that he mus' leeve Tomaz tr-rade 
goods by themselves. He ees goin' to Santa Fe weethout 
f or-rce ; an' now eet ees all spoil ! For what he do eet ? 
Bah ! For hees revenge he say. What ees hees revenge 
like Armijo's?" 

" Oh, shut yer mouth an' stop yer yowlin'," growled a 
gruff voice. " Eph alius knows what he's a-doin'." 

The poised listener outside the corral paused to hear 
no more but was off like a shadow, his stride a long, 
swinging lope, for he was too wise to dash at full speed 
and waste fighting breath for the sake of gaining a few 
seconds. He made his devious way across a plain 
studded with wagons, piles of freight and heaps of debris, 
and before he reached his objective the sounds of con- 
flict singled it out for him had he been in any doubt. 

The open wagon-shed loomed suddenly before him and 
he made out a struggling mass on the ground before it, 
his partner's grunted curses and the growls of Cooper's 
wagoner saving them from his attack. He went into the 
mass feet first, landing with all his weight and the mo- 
mentum of his run on a crouched man whose upraised 
arm was only waiting for a sure opening. The knife 
user grunted as he went down, and his head struck the 
edge of a wagon- wheel with such force that he no longer 



124 "BRING ME HIS EARS*' 

was a combatant. Tom had fallen to his knees after his 
catapulting impact and when he arose he held a squirm- 
ing halfbreed over his head at the height of his upraised 
arms. One heave of his powerful body and the human 
missile flew through the air and struck two of the half- 
breed's friends as they sprang to their feet in sudden 
alarm. They went down like tenpins and before they 
could gain their feet again Tom dropped on one of them, 
his knees squarely in the pit of the man's stomach, his 
right hand on the throat of the other, while his left 
gripped his adversary's knife hand and bent it steadily 
and inexorably back toward the wrist. 

"Th' little bobcat's j'ined us," panted Hank, crawling 
onto the man he now rolled under him. "Tom Boyd, 
Armijo's pet, with his fangs bared an' his claws out. 

Take this, you ! " he grunted as his shoulder set' 

itself behind the smashing blow. "How ye makin' out 
with yer friend, Abe?" he asked of the other rolling 
pair. 

It seemed that Abe was not making out according to 
Hank's specifications, so he crawled over to help him, 
and reached out a hand. It fastened onto a skinny neck 
and clamped shut, whereupon Abe rolled victoriously 
free and paused to glower at his victim. His surprise, 
while genuine, was of short duration, and he shook his 
head at the cheerful Hank and then pounced onto the 
man who had been used as a missile, and pinned him 
to the ground. In a few moments the fight was over, 
and the victors grinned sheepishly at each other in the 
semi-darkness and re-arranged various parts of their 
clothing. 

"I saw somethin' smash inter th' waggin wheel an' 



THE NEW SIX-GUN 125 

sorta reckoned you war some'rs 'round," panted Hank. 
" Then I saw somethin' else sail inter th' air an' knock 
over two o' th' thieves. Then I knowed ye war hyar. 
Me an' Abe war doin' our best, but we war beginnin' ter 
slip, like fur at th' end o' winter." 

*' Ye mebbe war sheddin' a little," laughed Tom, "but 
you'd 'a' shed them thieves afore ye petered out. Tell 
me about it." 

"Thar ain't nothin' ter tell," replied Hank. "I'm 
nat' rally suspicious by bein' up in th' Crow country so 
much o' my time, an' I got ter thinkin' 'bout School- 
craft. I'm mostly stronger on hindsight than I am on 
foresight, but this hyar's onct I sorta lined 'em both up 
an' got a good bead. I snuk up ter his shanty an' heard 
him an' that thar greaser chawin' tough meat with each 
other. So I come down hyar, expectin' ter lay fer 'eni 
with Abe; but danged if him an' them warn't at it al- 
ready ! I only got two feet, two han's an' one mouth, an* 
I had ter waste one foot a-standin' on it; but th' rest o' 
me jined th' dance. Then you come. That's all." 

" How long war you two holdin' off th' six o' 'em ? '' 
demanded Tom of Abe with great interest, and thinking 
that Cooper's trust was well placed. 

"'Twarn't long; two comets an' about six hundred 
stars, I reckon," mumbled the shrinking hero between 
swollen lips. " I war jest gittin' mad enough to go fur 
my knife when Hank gits in step with th' music, an' jines 
han's with us. What we goin' ter do with 'em?" 

" Oh, give 'em a kick apiece an' turn 'em loose without 
thar weapons," suggested Hank. 

Tom shook his head. " They come from Schoolcraft; 
let's take 'em back to him," he suggested. 



126 "BRING ME HIS EARS" ^ 

"Go ahead!" enthused Abe. Then he scratched his 
head. " But who's goin' ter watch th' goods while we're 
gone? Jake ain't due fer couple o' hours yet." 

"You air!" snorted Hank. "You need a rest, an' 
us two is shore enough." He prodded the figures on the 
ground with the toe of his moccasin. "Git up, you 
squaw dogs!" he ordered. 

In a moment five thoroughly cowed men were plodding 
before their guards. The sixth, who was still wandering 
about on the far side of the boundary of consciousness, 
was across Tom's shoulder. Reaching the horse-dealer's 
shanty, the prisoners opened the door by the simple ex- 
pedient of surging against it as they shrunk from the 
pricks of Hank's skinning knife. The two men inside 
escaped the crashing door by vaulting over 2L small table, 
and before they could recover their wits in the face of 
this amazing return of their friends they were looking 
down the barrels of two six-shooters. 

Tom dumped his burden onto the table, kicked a chair 
through a closed window, swept an open ink bottle onto 
Schoolcraft's manly stomach, and made a horrible face at 
the pop-eyed Mexican. "Hyar they air, polecat," he 
growled. "Any more raids on our goods an' I trail ye 
an' shoot on sight. Don't give a cuss who does it, or 
why ; ril git you. If I miss, Hank won't ; an' we both 
got good friends. Come on. Hank, it stinks in here." 

Tom turned and stalked out, but not so Hank. He 
backed out behind his new-fangled weapon, pleasantly 
thinking of its six ready shots, slid along the outside of 
the shack and then waited with great hope for a head 
to pop out of the door. Having had no chance to try- 
out the Colt he was ciu*ious regarding its accuracy. No 



THE NEW SIX-GUN 127! 

head popped, however, and after a moment he sighed, 
sHpped along the corral wall and crossed the street when 
far enough away to be covered by the darkness. Hank 
had no faith in hostile humans and did not believe in 
showing off. The thieving, treacherous Crows agreed 
that the brave who took Hank Marshall's scalp would be 
entitled to high honors ; with the mournful reflection that 
by the time it was taken, if ever, the tribe would have 
paid a very high price for it. 



CHAPTER IX 

TH^ CARAVAN 

AT LAST came the day, and the dawn of it showed a 
^. cloudless sky, a sleeping town and a little caravan 
winding, with rattle of chains and squeak of harness, 
past the silent, straggling houses, bound westward for the 
"prairie ocean." Despite the mud and the slowness of 
the going high spirits ruled the little train. Youth was 
about to do and dare, eager for the gamble with fate; 
and age looked forward to the lure of the well-known 
trail even as it looked backward in memory for faces 
and experiences of the years gone by. The occasion 
was auspicious, for the start was prompt to the minute 
and earlier than any they would make later. They were 
on the luxuriant and better wooded eastern rim of the 
great plains, and would be on it for several days. 

Joe Cooper, driving the small wagon with Patience 
seated at his side, led the way, eager and exultant Fol- 
lowing him closely came his two great Pittsburg wagons 
with their still spotless new sheets, each loaded with 
nearly three tons of selected merchandise, their immense 
wheels grumbling a little as they slid a fraction of an 
inch along their well-greased axles, their broad, new tires 
squashing out twin canyons in the mud. Next came 
two emigrant wagons, their proprietors fearing that they 
would not reach the Oregon-bound train at its rendez- 
yous in time to leave with it. Under their stained and 
128 



THE CARAVAN 129 

patched canvases two women slept as though in a steady; 
bed, their children at their sides. Weeks of this traveling 
had given to them the boon of being able to fall asleep 
almost at will. Then came Enoch Birdsall and Alonzo 
Webb, sober and gay, abusing each other humorously, 
each in his own wagon, handling their strung-out teams 
with nonchalant ease. Close to the rear of the last wagon 
came the eight mules of Tom Boyd and Hank Marshall, 
four to a string, followed by their horse-mounted own- 
ers; and behind them were Jim Ogden and Zeb Hough- 
ton, each driving two mules before them. 

The road was in execrable condition, its deep ruts 
masked by a mud as miry as it appeared to be bottomless, 
and several times the great wagons were mired so hard 
and fast that it took the great ox teams of Alonzo and 
Enoch, hooked on in addition to the original mule teams, 
to pull them out; and the emigrant wagons, drawn by 
over-worked oxen, gave nearly as much trouble. The 
story of their progress to Council Grove would be tiring, 
since it would be but little more than a recital of the same 
things over and over again — the problems presented 
by the roads. 

At Round Grove they said good-bye to the emigrants, 
who joined the rear guard of their own caravan at this 
point. Along the so-called Narrows, the little ridge 
forming the watershed between the Kansas and Osage 
rivers, for a stretch extending quite some distance west- 
ward from Round Grove, the roads were hardly more 
than a series of mudholes filmed over -and masked by 
apparently firm ground. In some of these treacherous 
traps the wagons often sank to the hubs, and on two oc-* 
casions the bottom of the wagon-box rested on the mudj 



I30 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

It was hopeless to try to pull them out with the animals 
so deep in mud, and only by finding more firm ground 
along the side of the trail, the use of long chains and the 
aid of every draft animal in the train were the huge 
wagons dragged out. The men themselves waded into 
the traps, buried at times almost to the waist, and put 
their shoulders to wheels and wagon-boxes and pushed 
and heaved and floundered; and they kept their spirits 
high despite the penetrating cold of the mire. Under 
these conditions stops were frequent to rest both teams 
and men, the "noonings" were prolonged, camp made 
earlier in the evening than was usual and left later in 
the morning. The tally of miles was disheartening, and 
to make matters worse a heavy downpour of chilling rain 
fell half a day before they reached i lo Mile Creek which, 
besides making everyone miserable and spoiling the cook- 
ing, swelled the stream so much that it was crossed only 
with the greatest difficulty. 

One of the few things they were grateful for was the 
fact that they did not have to keep regular guard watches 
at night, for while the Kaws and Osages might steal an 
animal or two in hope of receiving a little whiskey, pow- 
der, or tobacco for its return, there was no danger of 
wholesale stampeding, and a man or two was sufficient 
to watch the camp. 

One pleasant incident occurred when they pulled in 
sight of Switzler's Creek, where they found another sec- 
tion of the caravan in camp. The augmented train now 
numbered about twenty-six wagons and formed a rear 
guard worthy of the name. The weather had cleared 
again and the sun shone brightly all the way to Council 
Grove. To offset the pleasant effect of joining the other 



THE CARAVAN 131 

train, it was at Switzler's Creek that a hard-pushed mule 
train overtook them. With it came the httle Mexican 
and half a dozen of his compatriots, and several of 
Ephriam Schoolcraft's chosen bullies. At their appear- 
ance Hank Marshall found a new interest in life, and 
there was very little occurring in the new mule train that 
he missed. His habits now became a little similar to 
those of the cat tribe, for he resorted to his old trick of 
dozing while riding, catching naps at the noonings, be- 
fore dark and after dawn. With him awake at night and 
Tom awake during the day, and with Jim Ogden's and 
Zeb Houghton's nocturnal prowlings thrown in the bal- 
ance, it looked as though Hank's remark about " nobody 
ketchin' these beavers asleep" would be fully justified. 

Council Grove was reached one noon, and they learned 
that they would have plenty of time to do the many 
little things neglected on the way, for they would stay 
here two days. This was welcome news, as it gave them 
an opportunity to let the draft animals rest and feed well 
in preparation for the long prairie haul ahead. 

Council Grove of the caravan days is worthy of notice. 
It was the meeting place as well as the council place for 
those who were to cross the prairies together. To it ran 
the feeding roads, gradually growing as strands feed a 
rope, the loose and frayed ends starting from the Mis- 
souri River points and converging as they neared the 
grove. Named from a council and a treaty which took 
place there between a government commission sent out 
to survey a wagon road to the Arkansas River, and a 
tribe of Osages, in which safety for the traders was ob- 
tained from these savages, it was doubly well named 
because of the yearly councils which were held between 



-132 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

the traders themselves to perfect the organization of the 
caravan. 

The grove itself, of oak, ash, hickory, elm, and many 
other kinds of trees, was about half a mile wide and ex- 
tended along the sides of the little valley of Council 
Grove Creek, a large tributary of the Neosho River. 
With its dense timber, its rich bottom pastures, and fine, 
high prairies it made an ideal spot for a rendezvous; 
and it was about the last of the really fine and productive 
country seen from Independence. Here were hard 
woods in plenty, the last to be found on the long trip, 
from which to obtain replacements for broken axles and 
other wagon parts. This also was the farthest point 
reached by the trains without real organization, for from 
here on every important movement was officially ordered. 

Scattered about the beautiful, green little valley were 
wagons great and small, and piles of mule packs, each 
camp somewhat by itself. There was much calling and 
getting acquainted, fun and frolic, much hewing of trees, 
mending of gear, and, in general, busy preparation for 
the journey over the land of the short buffalo grass. 
Tenderfeet wasted their time and ammunition at target 
practice or in hunting for small game, and loafed to 
their hearts' content; but the experienced traveler put 
off his loafing and play until he knew that he had done 
everything there was to be done. There were horse races 
and mule races and even ox-team races; tugs of war, 
running, jumping, and, in fact, everything anyone could 
think of to help pass the time. 

After a good night's sleep the Cooper party found 
there was little to do except to get timber for "spares,'* 
^nd notwithstanding that a spare axle was slung from 



THE CARAVAN 



under each of the huge freighters. Uncle Joe insisted 
that each wagon carry another, and he personally su- 
perintended the cutting. They had been obtained and 
slung in place beside the others when a bugle was heard 
and criers passed among the little camps calling everyone 
for roll call. Nearly two hundred persons answered, all 
but one of them being men, and then the electioneering 
began for the choice of captain. To be a success a cara- 
van must have one head, and the more experienced he 
was the better it would be for the caravan. 

Now came the real excitement of the day, for party 
spirit was strong and insistent, and the electioneering 
was carried on with such gusto that several fights grew 
out of it. There were four parties at first, among which 
was Mike Wardell's, comprising the rougher, more law- 
less frontier element. He was a close friend of Ephriam 
Schoolcraft and he had his admirers outside of his own 
class, for a group of tenderfeet which was impressed by 
his swaggering, devil-may-care manners backed him in 
a body ; and another group which was solidly behind him 
was composed of the poorer Mexican traders. The sec- 
ond of the larger parties with a candidate in the field, 
who had been nominated by a series of caucuses, was 
made up of the more experienced and more responsible 
traders, veterans of the trail who put safety and order 
above all other considerations. This party nominated 
Zachary Woodson, who had more wagons in the cara- 
van than any other one man, therefore having more at 
stake, and who had not missed his round trip over the 
route for a dozen years. His nomination split the Mex- 
icans, for half of them had wagons and valuable freights^ 
and were in favor of the best leadership. 



X34 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

At first Woodson flatly refused to run, sneeringly re- 
minding his friends of the lack of cooperation he could 
expect from the very men who needed law and order and 
leadership most. He knew by bitter experience that the 
captain of a Santa Fe caravan had no real authority and 
that his orders were looked upon as mere requests, to be 
obeyed or not, as the mood suited. He was obdurate in 
his refusal until a split occurred in the other strong party 
and resulted^ in a disgraceful fight among its members, 
which was kept from having disastrous results only by 
the determined interposition of the more resolute mem- 
bers of his own party. This caused the two smaller fac- 
tions to abandon their own candidates and throw them- 
selves against Wardell, and resulted in the overwhelming 
election of the man best suited for the position. 

His first act after grudgingly accepting the thankless 
leadership was to ask for a list of the men, wagons, and 
pack animals, and he so engineered the division of them 
that each section had as its lieutenant a man whom he 
could trust and who did not lack in physical courage so 
much needed to get some kind of order and to keep it. 
The great train was divided into four divisions, at the 
present to join so as to march in two columns ; but later 
to spread out and travel in divisional order of four 
straight columns abreast, far enough apart so that the 
width of the whole front roughly would equal the length 
of a column. 

Next came the arrangement of the watches, the most 
cordially hated of all caravan duties. In this train of 
nearly ninety wagons there were nearly one hundred and 
eighty men physically able to stand a guard, and no one 
who was able to stand his trick was let off. The captain 



THE CARAVAN 135 

preferred the regular and generally accepted system of 
two watches, each of four squads, which put one squad 
on duty for three hours each alternate night; but there 
were so many men for this disagreeable task that he 
allowed himself to be over-ruled and consented to a 
three watch system, six squads to the watch, which put 
one watch of nine men and a corporal on duty for two 
hours every third night. Almost any concession was 
worth making if it would arouse a little interest and a 
sense of duty in this very important matter of guarding 
the camp. The corporal of each squad arranged to shift 
up one tour each time their squad went on, which would 
give no one squad the same hours for its successive tours 
of duty. Nothing could have been fairer than this, but 
there were objectors in plenty. Each one of the kickers 
had his own, perfect plan. Some wanted smaller squads 
with the same number of watches so that each tour of 
duty would be less; some wanted two watches and 
smaller squads, to the same end, both of which would 
have caused endless changing of the guard, endless awak- 
enings all night long, with practically continuous noise 
and confusion. Captain Woodson, having abandoned 
the regular and tried system so as to let the men feel a 
sense of cooperation, flatly refused to allow any fur- 
ther changes, and in consequence earned the smoldering 
grudges of no small number, which would persist until 
the end of the trail and provide an undercurrent of dis- 
satisfaction quick to seize on any pretext to make trouble. 
For the division officers he chose the four men he had 
in mind, after over-ruling a demand for a vote on them. 
As long as he was responsible for the safety of the cara- 
van he declared that it was his right to appoint lieuten- 



136 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

ants whom he knew and could trust. The bickering had 
fresh fuel and continued strong all day, and it would last 
out the journey. 

Arranging the divisions so far as possible to put 
friends together, with the exception of some of the ten- 
derfoot parties, they were numbered, from left to right, 
as they would travel, and he was careful to put the more 
experienced plainsmen on the two outside ranks and, 
where possible, the better drivers in the two inner col- 
umns. These latter had a little more complex course to 
follow in case of sudden need to corral the caravan. For 
corralling while traveling in two columns, he instructed 
the drivers to follow the wagon ahead and to stop when 
his own wagon tongue came even with the rim of the rear 
wheel of the wagon he was following. In case of cor- 
ralling in face of danger, they were to swing their teams 
to the inside of the leading wagon, so as to have all the 
animals on the inside of the corral; in ordinary camping 
they were to swing their teams in the other direction, so 
the animals would be ready to graze outside of the cor- 
ralled wagons. They were to pay no attention to direc- 
tion or to sudden inspirations, but were blindly to follow 
the wagon in front of them and to close up the gaps. 
The leading driver of each column would set the curving 
track which would bring the wagons into a great ellipse 
or a circle while moving in the two column formation. 

The first and fourth columns were commanded by Jim 
Ogden and Tom Boyd, while the two inner columns were 
under a trader named Haviland and a sullen, mean-tem- 
pered trader of Independence and a warm friend of 
Schoolcraft. His name was Franklin, and while his per- 
sonal attributes were unpleasant and he was a leader of 



THE CARAVAN 137 

the Schoolcraft element, he was a first class caravan man 
and had proved his coolness and resourcefulness in many 
a tight place. His appointment also served in a measure 
to placate the rebellious element, which nursed the 
thought that it could do about as it pleased in its own 
column. Whether they were right or wrong in this re- 
mained to be seen. While the two column formation was 
in use the first and second divisions made up one of 
them; the third and fourth, the other. To Tom's de- 
light he found that the Cooper wagons had been assigned 
to his own division; but as an offset to this two wagons 
belonging to gallivanting tenderfeet had been placed 
directly behind them. It was not pleasant to think of 
these dandified city sports being so close to Patience 
Cooper all the way to Santa Fe. Like many men in love, 
he was prone to discount the intelligence and affections 
of the loved one and to let his fears threaten his com- 
mon sense. 

The first great watch went on duty at seven o'clock 
that night, more for the purpose of breaking the men in 
to their work than for any need of defense, for no 
Indian troubles, despite the rumors afloat in Independ- 
ence, were to be looked for so far east. There was a 
great deal of joking and needless challenging that night 
and very little attempt to follow instructions. An Indian 
likes nothing better than a noisy, standing sentry; but 
this savage preference hardly would be shown in the 
vicinity of Council Grove. Woodson knew that disci- 
pline could not be obtained and that every man would 
<io as he pleased until the encampment received a good 
scare, but his own sense of responsibility impelled him 
to make an effort to get it. 



138 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

The next day was passed in resting, in placing the 
wagons in their order of march,, land in drilHng the drivers 
in caravan tactics ; and that night the guard was as noisy 
as it had been the night before. The squad which went 
on duty at one o'clock contained two tenderfeet and 
between them they succeeded in shattering the monotony. 

A quarter of an hour after the guard had been changed 
tenderfoot Number One thought he heard a sound and 
saw a movement. He promptly challenged and fired in 
the same instant. His weapon was a double-barreled 
fowling piece charged with buckshot, and there was no 
doubt about the deadly efficiency of such a combination 
when the corporal found the carcass of a mule with a 
hole in it nearly as big as a hat. The camp was thrown 
into an uproar, guns flashed from the wagons to the 
imminent peril of the rest of the sentries, and only the 
timely and rough interference of a cool-headed trapper 
kept the two four-pounders from being fired. They 
were loaded with musket balls and pebbles and trained 
on three wagons not fifty yards from them. Orders, 
counter orders, suggestions, shouts for balls, powder, 
flints, caps, patches, ramrods, and for about everything 
human minds could think of kept the encampment in a 
pandemonium until sense was driven into the panicky 
men and the camp allowed to resume its silence. 

Tenderfoot Number Two heard and saw an Indian 
approaching him and fired his pistol at the savage. This 
took place near the end of the same guard tour. Only 
his fright and the poor light which made his wobbling 
aim all the more uncertain saved the life of his best 
friend who, restless and lonely, was going out to share 
the remainder of the watch with him. Again pande- 



THE CARAVAN 139 

monium reigned and weapons exploded, but this time the 
cattle stampeded in the darkness, doing the best they 
could with their handicap of hobbles. 

At dawn the caravan was astir, the blast from the 
bugle not needed this time, for almost every man had 
animals to hunt for and drive in, and as a result of this 
breakfasts were late and the whole day's operations were 
thrown out of step. Finally after all the stampeded ani- 
mals had been rounded up and the morning meal was out 
of the way, and things done at the last minute which 
should have been done the day before, preparations were 
started to get under way. Mules and horses broke loose 
and had to be chased and brought back; animals balked 
and kicked and helped to turn the camp into a scene of 
noisy confusion. Several parties found that they had 
neglected to cut spare axles and forthwith sallied off to 
get them. Others frantically looked for articles they 
had misplaced or loaned, one wagon being entirely un- 
packed to find a coffee pot and a frying pan which some- 
one else later discovered at the edge of the creek where 
they had been dropped after they had been washed, their 
owner having left them to get a shot at a squirrel he 
thought he saw. The forehanded and wiser members of 
the caravan took advantage of the delay and turmoil to 
cut an extra supply of firewood against a future need, 
add to their store of picket stakes and also to fill their 
water casks to keep them swelled tight beyond question, 
against the time when the much dreaded dry stretch 
should be reached. 

At last from the captain's camp the well-known sum- 
mons of "Catch up!" was heard, and passed on from 
group to group along the creek. Those who had not 



I40 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

yet hitched up their teams, almost at every case old hands 
at the game who were wise enough to let their animals 
gpraze until the last minute, now exultantly drove in their 
teams and filled the little valley with the rattle of chains, 
the clicking of yokes, the braying of indignant mules, and 
their own vociferations. Soon a teamster yelled "All's 
set!" and answering shouts rolled up and down the 
divisions. At the shouted command of " Stretch out ! " 
whips cracked, harness creaked, chains rattled and wag- 
ons squeaked as the shouting drivers straightened out 
their teams. " Fall in ! " came next, and the teams were 
urged into the agreed-upon order, the noses of the lead- 
ers of one team close to the tailboard of the wagon ahead. 
The second and third divisions, falling in behind the first 
and fourth, made two strings rolling up the long western 
slope of the valley toward the high prairie at its crest. 

Songs, jokes, exultant shouts ran along the trains as 
the valley was left behind, for now the caravan truly was 
embarked on the journey, and every mile covered put 
civilization that much farther in the rear. Straight 
ahead lay the trail, beaten into a plain, broad track lead- 
ing toward the sunset, a mark which could not be mis- 
taken and which rendered the many compasses valueless 
so far as the trail itself was concerned. 

The first day's travel was a comparatively short one, 
and during the drive the officers rode back along the lines 
and again explained the formation which would be used 
at the next stopping place. This point was so near that 
the caravan kept on past the noon hour and did not stop 
until it reached Diamond Spring, a large, crystal spring 
emptying into a small brook close to a very good camp- 
ing ground. The former camp no sooner had been left 



THE CARAVAN 141 

than the tenderfeet began to show their predilection to do 
as they pleased and to ride madly over the prairie in 
search of game which was not there, finally gravitating 
to a common body a mile or more ahead of the wagons, 
a place to which they stuck with a determination worthy 
of better things. 

At Diamond Spring came the first clash against 
authority, for the captain had told each lieutenant to 
get his division across all streams before stopping. The 
word had been passed along the twin lines and seemed 
to have been tacitly accepted, yet when the wagons 
reached the brook many of the last two divisions, think- 
ing the farther bank too crowded and ignoring the for- 
mation of the night encampment, pulled up and stopped 
on the near side. After some argument most of them 
crossed over and took up their proper places in the corral, 
but there were some who expressed themselves as being 
entirely satisfied to remain where they were, since there 
was no danger from Indians at this point. The animals 
were turned loose to graze, restrained only by hobbles 
until nightfall, the oxen in most cases yoked together to 
save trouble with the stubborn beasts imtil they should 
become trained and more docile. They were the most 
senseless of the draft animals, often stampeding for no 
apparent cause; the sudden rattle of a chain or a yoke 
often being all that was needed to turn them into a 
fleshy avalanche; and while the Indians did not want 
oxen, they seemed to be aware of the excitable natures 
of the beasts and made use of their knowledge to start 
stampedes among the other animals with them, much 
the same as fulminate of mercury is used to detonate a 
charge of a more stable explosive. 



142 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

The first two watches of the night were pleasant, but 
when Tom Boyd's squad went on duty an hour before 
midnight there was a change in the weather, and before 
half an hour had passed the rain fell in sheets and sent 
some of the guards to seek shelter in the wagons. Two 
of them were tenderfeet, one of Schoolcraft's friends and 
a trader. Tom was the so-called corporal of this watch 
and he was standing his trick as vigilantly as if they 
were in the heart of the Kiowa or Comanche country. 
He carefully had instructed his men and had posted them 
in the best places, and he knew where each of them 
should be found. After half an hour of the downpour 
he made the rounds, called the roll and then slipped back 
into the encampment in search of the missing men. Not 
knowing them well enough at this time he did not know 
the wagons to which they belonged, and he had to wait 
until later to hunt them out. 

Dawn found a wet and dispirited camp as the last 
guard returned to the wagons an hour before they should 
have left their posts. Not a fire would burn properly and 
not a breakfast was thoroughly cooked. Everyone 
seemed to have a chip on his shoulder, and the animals 
were mean and rebellious when driven in for the hobbles 
to be removed and picket ropes substituted to hold them. 
Breakfast at last over, the caravan was about to start 
when Tom went along his own division and called four 
men together. 

"Last night you fellers quit yer posts an' slunk back 
ter yer wagons," he said, ominously. "Two of ye air 
tenderfeet, an' green ter this life; one is a trader an' 
th' other is an old hand on th' trail. You all ought ter 
know better. I'm lettin' ye off easy this time, but th' 



THE CARAVAN 145 

next man that breaks guard is goin' ter git a cussed fine 
lickin'. If it's necessary I'll make an invalid out o' any 
man in my squad that sneaks off his post. Git back ter 
yer wagons, an' don't fergit what I've said." 

The tenderfeet were pugnacious, but doubtful of their 
ground; the trader was abashed by the keen knowledge 
of his guilt and the enormity of his offense. He was a 
just man and had no retort to make. The teamster, a 
bully and a rough, with a reputation to maintain, scowled 
around the closely packed circle, looking for sympathy, 
and found plenty of it because the crowd was anxious to 
see the corporal, as personifying authority, soundly 
thrashed. They felt that no one had any right to expect 
a man to stand guard in such a rain out in the cheerless 
dark for two hours, especially when it was admitted that 
there was no danger to be feared. Finding encourage- 
ment to justify his attitude, and eager to wipe out the 
sting of the lecture, the bully grinned nastily and took a 
step forward. 

" Reg'lar pit-cock, ain't ye ? " he sneered. *' High an' 
mighty with yer mouth, ain't ye ? Goin' ter boss things 
right up ter th' hilt, you air! Wall, ye — I'm wettin* 
yer primin', hyar an' " 

Tom stopped the words with a left on the mouth, and 
while the fight lasted it was fast and furious ; but clumsy 
brute strength, misdirected by a blind rage, could not 
cope with a greater strength, trained, agile, and cool; 
neither could a liquor soaked carcass for long take the 
heavy punishment that Tom methodically was giving it 
and come back for more. As the bullwhacker went down 
in the mud for the fifth time, there was a finality about 
the fall that caused his conqueror to wheel abruptly from 



144 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

him and face the ring of eager and disappointed faces. 

** I wam't too busy ter hear some o' th' remarks," he 
snarled. " Now's th' time ter back 'em up! If ye don't 
it makes a double liar out o' ye! Come on — step out, 
an' git it over quick ! " He glanced at the two pugnacious 
tender feet. " You two make about one man, th' way we 
rate 'em out hyar ; come on, both o' ye I " 

While they hesitated, Captain Woodson pushed through 
the crowd into the ring, closely followed by Tom's grim 
and silent friends, and a slender Mexican, the latter obvi- 
ously solicitous about Tom's welfare. In a few moments 
the excitement died down and the crowd dispersed to its 
various wagons and pack animals. As Tom went toward 
his mules he saw Franklin, the tough officer of the third 
division, facing a small group of his own friends, and 
suddenly placing his hand against the face of one of them, 
pushed the man off his balance. 

"I'll cut yer spurs," Franklin declared. "Fust man 
sneaks off guard in my gang will wish ter G — d he 
didn't!" He turned away and met Tom face to face. 
"We'll larn 'em, Boyd," he growled. "I'm aimin' ter 
bust th' back o' th' first kiyote of my gang that leaves 
his post un watched. If one o' them gits laid up fer th' 
rest o' th' trip th' others'U stand ter it, rain or no rain. 
Ye should 'a' kicked in his ribs while ye had 'im down ! " 

After a confused and dilatory start the two trains 
strung out over the prairie and went on again; but the 
rebellious wagon-owners on the east side of the creek 
were not with the caravan. They were learning their 
lesson. 

The heavy rain had swollen the waters of the stream, 
stirred up its soft bed and turned its banks into treacher- 



THE CARAVAN 145 

ous inclines slippery with mud. When the mean-spirited 
teams had been hooked to the wagons and sullenly obeyed 
the commands to move, they balked in mid-stream and 
would not cross it in their " cold collars ; " and there they 
remained, halfway over. In vain the drivers shouted and 
swore and whipped ; in vain they pleaded and in vain they 
called for help. The main part of the caravan, for once 
united in spirit, perhaps because it was a mean one, went 
on without them, knowing that the recalcitrant rear 
guard was in no danger ; the sullen spirit of meanness in 
every heart rejoicing in the lesson being learned by their 
stubborn fellow travelers. The captain would have held 
up the whole train to give necessary assistance to any 
unfortunate wagoner; but there was no necessary assist- 
ance required here, for they could extricate themselves 
if they went about it right ; and there was a much-needed 
lesson to be assimilated. Their predicament secretly 
pleased every member of the main body, which was 
somewhat humorous, when it is considered that the great 
majority of the men in the main body had no scruples 
against disobeying any order that did not suit their 
mood. 

Finally, enraged by being left behind, the stubborn 
wagoners remembered one of the reasons advanced by 
the captain the day before when he had urged them to 
cross over and complete the corral. He had spoken of 
the difficulty of getting the animals to attempt a hard 
pull in " cold collars," when they would do the work with- 
out pausing while they were "warmed up." So after 
considerable eloquence and persistent urging had availed 
them naught, the disgruntled wagoners jumped into the 
cold water, waded to the head of the teams and, turning 



146 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

them around, got them back onto the bank they had left 
after vainly trying to lead them across. Once out of the 
creek, the teams were driven over a circle a mile in cir- 
cumference to get their "collars warm." Approaching 
the creek at a good pace, the teams crossed it without 
pausing and slipped and floundered up the muddy bank at 
the imminent risk of overturning the wagons. Reaching 
the top, they started after the plodding caravan and in due 
time overtook it and found their allotted places in the 
lines, to some little sarcastic laughter. Never after that 
did those wagoners refuse to cross any stream at camp 
time, while their teams were warmed up and willing to 
pull ; but instead of giving the captain any credit for his 
urging and his arguments, wasted the day before, they 
blamed him for going on without them, and nursed a 
grudge against him and his officers that showed itself at 
times until the end of the long journey. They would not 
let themselves believe that he would have refused really 
to desert them. 

The caravan made only fifteen miles and camped on a 
rise of the open prairie, where practice was obtained in 
forming a circular corral, with the two cannons on the 
crest of the rise. The evolution was performed with 
snap and precision, the sun having appeared in mid-fore- 
noon and restored the sullen spirits to natural buoyancy. 
The first squad of the watch went on duty with military 
promptness, much to the surprise of the more experienced 
travelers. Here for the first time was adopted a system 
of grazing which was a hobby with the captain, who 
believed that hobbled animals wasted too much time in 
picking and choosing the best grass and in wandering 
around. He maintained that picketed animals would eat 



THE CARAVAN 147 

more in the same time, and so each wagoner was given 
a stretch of prairie as wide as the space occupied by his 
wagon and reaching out about one hundred yards, fan- 
wise, from the corral. Picket ropes of from twenty to 
thirty feet in length let each animal of his team graze 
over a circle of that radius, the center being a stake of 
hardwood two inches thick and about two feet long. 
Some of the pickets were pointed with iron and had a 
band of the same metal shrunk around the upper and 
near the top to keep them from splitting under repeated 
axe blows. Many of the others had their points hardened 
by fire, and a pointed hickory or ash picket so treated 
will stand a lot of abuse. Before dark the pickets were 
shifted to new places and the animals left to graze all 
night, for Indian visits still were a matter of the future. 

After they had finished their supper and washed and 
put away the few utensils, Tom as usual drifted off to 
spend an hour or two with Uncle Joe and Patience. He 
had not been gone long before Hank got up to loosen a 
pack to get a fresh plug of smoking tobacco, and caught 
sight of Pedro, the Mexican, sauntering toward him. 
The visitor grinned cheerfully and sat down by the dying 
fire, acting as though he had every reason to be accorded 
a cordial welcome. 

" Hah ! " exclaimed the self-invited guest in rare good 
humor. " Eet ess good to get out on thee gr-reat pr-rairie ; 
but eet would haf been better eef we had went weeth 
thee fir-rst tr-rain. Weeth that tr-rain was thee tr-roops. 
We would be better pr-rotect." 

Hank was undecided whether he should turn his back 
on the visitor and walk away, or grab him by the collar 
and the slack of his trousers and throw him from the fire. 



148 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

when habitual cunning made him grunt his endorsement 
of the other's remarks. He never was above acquiring 
what information he could get, no matter how trivial it 
might be. 

"Yeah," he replied, passing the plug to his guest. 
"Fill yer pipe, or make a cigarette," he invited. "Them 
danged settlements air all right fer a change, but this 
hyar is a hull lot better; an' th' mountings air better'n 
this. As fer th' dragoons with th' fust train, it's plumb 
welcome to 'em. Thar more trouble than thar worth; 
an' they alius will be till they larn ter fight Injuns in th' 
Injun way. Th' idear o' usin' th' right hand fer a sword 
an' th' left fer a pistol ! I'd ruther be with a passel o' 
mounting boys, fur's fightin' Injuns air consarned. Any- 
how, jest when they git whar they're needed most, down 
on th' edge o' th' Kiowa an' Comanche country, th' 
danged dragoons has ter stop." 

"But senor; they must not tr-read on Mexican soil," 
protested Pedro. 

Hank grinned and choked down the retort he was 
about to make, nodding his head instead. " Shore ; that's 
th' trouble. Now, if that danged Governor o' yourn 
would meet th' train at Cimarron Crossin' an* go th' rest 
o' th' way with it, thar'd be some sense ter troop escorts. 
Thar ain't a sojer along th' worst stretch o' th' whole 
trail. I'll bet ye we won't see hide ner hair o' 'em this 
side o' Cold Spring, when th' danger from raidin' Injuns 
is 'most over." 

Pedro spread his hands helplessly. " That ees but too 
tr-rue, senor. Theese time we weel not see thee br-rave 
tr-roops of Mexico befor-re we r-reach thee Wagoo- 
Mound." 



THE CARAVAN j49 

" Thar ! " triumphantly exclaimed Hank. " What did 
I tell ye ? They used ter git as fur as Cold Spring, any- 
how ; but now thar waitin' at th' Wagon Mound. Next 
thing we know they'll be waitin' at San Miguel fer ter 
see us safe th' last fifty miles through th' settlements ! " 

"Eet ees thee Apaches that ar-re to blame theese 
time," explained Pedro with oily smoothness. "They 
ar-re ver' bad theese year along thee Rio Gr-rande del 
Norte. Ver' bad!" 

"Yeah," grunted Hank, puffing reflectively on his 
pipe. "Mexico an' Texas both claim all that country 
east o' th' Grande, but th' Apaches shore own it, an' run 
it ter suit theirselves. Bad Injuns, they air." 

"Thee customs they ar-re ver' str-rict theese year,"^ 
commented Pedro, closely watching his companion. 
" They ar-re ver' har-rd on my poor countrymen. They 
keep thee pr-rices so high on all theese goods." 

"Tarnation bother," grunted Hank, beginning to get 
the reason for the Mexican's interest in him. " Too bad 
we don't know somebody that kin git us past 'em," he 
suggested, hopefully. 

Pedro rubbed his hands complacently and helped to 
maintain a prolonged silence; which at last was broken 
by small talk concerning the caravan and its various 
members. After half an hour of this aimless conversa- 
tion he arose to leave. 

"Thee customs, as you haf so tr-ruly said, ar-re ver' 
gr-reat bother, Sefior Hank. I know thees ver' much, 
for I haf a br-rother in thee custom house. We ar-re ver'' 
close, my br-rother an' me. I weel see you again, sefior. 
Eet ees good that we get acquaint, weeth so ver' many 
milla yet to tr-ravel together. Buenos noches, seiior." 



150 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

"Good night," replied Hank, carefully pulling the 
unburned wood out of the fire to serve for the cooking 
of the breakfast. He glanced after the dapper Mexican 
and grinned, re-roped the pack, and wandered off to join 
his trapper friends at their fire. 

** Grease is slippery; an' so is greasers," he chuckled. 
" Wall, thar's plenty o' time to figger jest what he's arter. 
Might be cheatin' th' customs, an' then ag'in it might 
not." 



CHAPTER X 

KN ROUTI^ 

TOM'S duties as a lieutenant were to supervise his 
column, ride ahead of the train on lookout for pos- 
sible obstructions or dangers, go on ahead to creeks and 
see that the banks sloped enough to permit the wagons 
to take them safely, to hunt out and bridge morasses and 
quagmires that could not be avoided. If the banks were 
too steep he and others of the caravan were to ride ahead 
with axes, shovels, and mattocks and cut a sloping road 
through them ; if a morass or a treacherous creek bed had 
to be crossed they had to cut great numbers of saplings, 
branches, and brush and build up a causeway of alter- 
nate layers of wood and dirt. This would not take 
long and if properly done, every wagon could cross in 
safety. 

The caravan in movement should have presented a 
formation of wagons in orderly array, preceded by the 
captain and officers, flanked at a good distance on both 
sides by well-armed riders, and followed by a fairly 
strong rear-guard; but no such ideal formation could be 
maintained except under the discipline of a military or 
paid force. The flankers rode far and wide searching 
endlessly for game and usually wound up with the ad- 
vance guard, a mile or more ahead. The rear guard 
dwindled rapidly and soon joined the others far in ad- 
vance, leaving the crawling wagons entirely unprotected 
151 



152 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

from any sudden attack by Indians who might have lain 
concealed in one of the numerous prairie hollows. 

There were four conditions every twenty-four hours 
especially liked by the savages. One was during the 
night, between midnight and dawn ; another as the cara- 
van got under way, when there was more or less confusion 
and the wagons had broken the corral formation enough 
so it could not be re-formed quickly ; a third was during 
the day when every man who did not have to drive was 
galivanting a mile or more away, blazing at rattlesnakes 
or prairie dogs and making a fool of himself generally, 
his thoughts on everything except the safety of the train 
he had deserted; and the fourth was in the evening just 
as the animals were being staked outside, when most of 
the men were busy with them and some distance outside 
the wagon ramparts, many of the more careless being 
unarmed. To offset these conditions so favorable to sur- 
prise attacks on the caravan was one of the captain's most 
important duties, and the urgent consideration of water 
and good grass many times complicated his problems. 

Captain Woodson at one time had been a trapper, and 
his early experiences with the fur expeditions here stood 
him in good stead, especially his knowledge about Indians. 
He continually hammered at the men to flank properly 
and to scour the country on each side of the caravan for 
a mile or more and to investigate every hollow and rise 
capable of hiding horses. Before he called the halt for 
the " noonings " or the encampments in the evenings, he 
urged that the surrounding country be well scouted over 
and everything suspicious reported. For the crews of 
the two cannons, which had been changed the morning 
following the narrowly averted calamity of a few days 



I 



EN ROUTE 153 



back, he had picked men who appeared to be calm and 
resourceful, and these weapons trundled along on their 
wheeled carriages in a strategic position, their crews 
ordered not to leave them unattended at any time during 
the day's march — but who cared for orders? 

The trail here being easy and plain, the banks of the 
streams cut by the previous caravan, Tom dropped back 
after a brief exploration along the flanks, which he made 
because the flankers would not, to join his partner and 
their pack train, plodding along on the left-hand side of 
Joe Cooper's wagons. 

Hank was a placid, easy-going individual and cared 
little whether or not he had company. For the last few 
days he had been highly amused by watching several pack 
animals owned and led by tenderfeet, who had learned 
neither to follow them nor to load them right. These 
green travelers were continually in trouble. If they were 
not arguing with mules gone balky because of unevenly 
distributed loads, or chasing some running and kicking 
animal that scattered the contents of its pack far and 
wide over the plain, they were collecting their possessions 
piece-meal from a score of acres of prairie and hurriedly 
re-packing somewhere behind the caravan, cursing, per- 
spiring, out of breath, and murderously savage. Some 
of them re-packed more than a dozen times a day and 
were hard put even to keep the caravan in sight. Their 
natural anger at their misfortunes was turned into a sim- 
mering or a coruscating rage, that ever and anon burst 
out with volcanic force as they realized the utter hope- 
lessness of their position. This was for the first few 
days, for the wiser ones used their eyes and ears and 
mouths to good advantage, and soon got the knack of 



154 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

packing; but there were some who seemingly were too 
dumb to learn. 

Hank never obtruded any advice, but cheerfully ex- 
plained the art of packing to any man who sought him. 
He and his partner's animals never shifted a pack on this 
smooth going, and this fact began to sink into some of 
the tenderfeet, and they eagerly took lessons from the 
veteran. It was not long before a spilled pack in that col- 
umn of the train was an uncommon occurrence. These 
eight mules behaved in an admirable manner and there 
was a good reason for it. When they had been selected, 
only those showing the unmistakable signs of the veteran 
pack mule were chosen. The marks of the crupper, 
aparejo and girth never would disappear. Tenderfeet 
scornfully would have passed them by and chosen sleek, 
smooth-haired animals of far better appearance; but 
Hank and Tom did not make this mistake, realizing that 
here, indeed, beauty was only skin deep. 

Hank judged that it was about time to take full ad- 
vantage of the mules' early training and the results were 
regarded as downright miracles by the greenhorns, who 
attempted to duplicate the system, but with disastrous 
endings. One of the mules was an old mare, and her 
actions, even in the corral at Independence, told Hank 
all about her. He now took from a pack a bell and, 
riding up to the plodding, sedate pack animal, fastened 
it around her neck. Then he tied her to the rear of the 
second of Cooper's big wagons, until she should learn 
that this was to be her place under all conditions, and 
dropped back farther and farther while he watched the 
other seven. At the sound of the tinkling bell they had 
pricked up their long ears and rolled them forward; a 



EN ROUTE 155 



certain important dignity came over each one and they 
went ahead with an air of satisfaction that was so appar- 
ent that it was ludicrous. Hank grinned and rode off to 
play rear guard all by himself, well knowing that his 
seven animals would follow the old bell-mare wherever 
she led, whether he was there or not. Later he rewarded 
her by changing her pack and substituting that of the 
dwindling food supply, which grew lighter after every 
camp. When he finally freed her from the wagon she 
moved up alongside the off -wheel mule, for whom she 
seemed to have an abiding affection, and from then on 
she would not stray from his side, nor her seven follow- 
ers from her. 

On this occasion when Tom returned and found his 
partner absent, he surmised that the trapper was off look- 
ing for an antelope to vary the monotony of their fare 
and to save their bacon and flour. Until the buffalo 
country was reached the caravan had to live on flour, 
bacon, and perhaps beans, of which each traveler had 
a limited supply. The chief reliance for food was the 
buffalo, and their range was still well ahead. Tom and 
Hank, however, not knowing what contingency awaited 
them on the Mexican end of the trail, had far exceeded 
the regular allowance per man, of fifty pounds of flour, 
same of bacon, dozen pounds of coffee, twenty-five 
pounds of sugar, and a goodly amount of salt. Topping 
one of the packs, and dwarfing the patient mule nearly 
hidden under the load, were two ten-gallon water casks, 
each with a few quarts sloshing around inside. At every 
stop these kegs were shifted a little so as to give each 
portion of them a soaking in turn. The powder, two 
twenty-five pound kegs covered with oiled cloth and over 



156 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

that with a heavy, greased bull-buffalo leather, were in 
the same packs with the bar lead and a reserve supply 
of caps and patches. The bullet molds, nipple wrenches, 
and other small necessaries were carried in their " possi- 
ble" sacks, each being a beautifully beaded and quilled 
bag obtained in their trade with the Indians. Along with 
the ammunition each had packed a buffalo-hide bag, fitted 
with shoulder, breast, and head lines ; and should it be- 
come necessary for them to disappear, without a mule, 
they were equipped to remain in the mountains and hills 
for a long time. Later on they would pack the big bags 
and keep them ready for instant use. 

Tom found not only that his partner had gone, but that 
the city sports, tiring of aimless riding ahead, had fallen 
back to the train and were now riding leg to leg on both 
sides of Joe Cooper's small wagon, vying with each other 
in their endeavors to be entertaining to Patience. They 
were laughing uproariously when the plainsman appeared 
and one of them, Dr. Whiting, acknowledged his intro- 
duction to Tom with an ironical grin. Here, he thought, 
was a mountain yokel all ripe to play target for his shafts 
of satire. He would shine out resplendently against this 
ignorant plainsman and have a lot of fun in the bargain. 

"Ah!" he exclaimed, his mouth open in pretended 
admiration. "Regular Daniel Boone I I suppose you 
know how to bark squirrels ; and barking buffaloes must 
be an old trick with you by this time." 

Tom regarded him thoughtfully. He did not mind the 
words, but the tone in which they were spoken was 
distinctly offensive. He smiled pleasantly. " Thar ain't 
no squirrels ter bark on th' prairies; but thar air some 
barkin' prairie dogs, though they mostly chatter 'stead o' 



EN ROUTE 157 



bark. They set up an' make a lot o' noise, but don't 
amount to nothin'. Th' funny part o' it is, th' dumber 
they air th' more they chatter. As fer bein' Dan'l 
Boone, tenderfeet mostly find it a boon ter have a Dan'l 
handy afore this air trail is left." He gravely acknowl- 
edged the introduction to the others and looked at Pa- 
tience again, and from her back to the saddled horse tied 
to the rear of the wagon. " Feel like a little ride, Miss 
Cooper " he asked. " Must be tirin' settin' up thar mile 
arter mile listenin' to th' chatterin'." 

She nodded, holding back her laughter, and Tom led 
up the horse. 

" But, Miss Cooper ! " expostulated the doctor. " What 
are we going to do without you? We are desolate! 
Might I offer you a noble escort, six trusty, knightly 
blades to flash in your defense?" 

She smiled sweetly but shook her head. "When we 
reach the Indian country I will be very glad to accept 
such an escort; but out here I would not think of im- 
posing on your generosity. This seems to be Mr. Boyd's 
expedition; perhaps he may invite you." 

Tom shook his head sadly. " Reckon I'll have all I 
kin do to look arter Miss Cooper in case we meets airy 
Injuns, without botherin' with six Hashes. See you-all 
later, mebby." 

They drew rein and waited for the crawling column 
to pass them, smiling and nodding in reply to the cheer- 
ful salutations of the wagoners and traders. Pedro, the 
slender Mexican, who took such a deep interest in the 
doings of Tom Boyd, removed his wide hat and bowed, 
in true cavalier fashion, showing his gleaming teeth in a 
pearly smile. The interest the plainsman was showing in 



158 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

his pretty companion was an assurance that Tom Boyd 
would need no further persuasion to enter the Mexican 
settlements. Franklin, the leader of the third division, 
temporarily the second section of Tom's column, allowed 
himself the luxury of a sullen smile. He knew his part 
in the scheme of Pedro and Schoolcraft perfectly and 
had no thought of deviating from it, but he could not 
help admiring the upstanding plainsman, who was a man 
after his own heart. They were bound together by a 
common interest, the safety of the caravan, and until 
they were met by the escort of Mexican cavalry, some- 
where near Rock Creek or the Canadian River, Franklin 
gave little heed to personal grudges. All he was sup- 
posed to do was to see that the plainsman did not leave 
the caravan for good before the escort met it. 

The two four-pounders trundled along their rumbling 
way, only one man to each gun, the rest of their crews 
off with the advance guard. Tom glanced at the all but 
deserted weapons and frowned. Franklin, noticing it, 
frowned in reply. It was not because full cannon crews 
were needed on this part of the trail, but because both 
men knew that it would be the same all the way. 

After the last wagon had passed, Tom and his compan- 
ion rode forth and turned when half a mile from the 
column, riding ahead on a course parallel with it. The 
prairie was studded with the earlier flowers of spring, 
in some places a rich carpet of delicate colors. Suddenly 
Tom pointed to a gray object nearly covered with earth, 
dried grass of the year before, and the fresh greenery 
of this season's slender blades pushing up through it. 

"Buffalo skull," he explained. "Let's look at it; it 
may tell us something interesting. " 



EN ROUTE 159 



They rode close to it and the plainsman nodded in 
quick understanding. 

" That bull was killed by an Indian," he said. " Notice 
that it faces the west? They place them that way to 
propitiate their gods. A skull hardly lasts more than 
three years on the prairie, which means that this animal 
was killed about that long ago. It is more than likely 
that he was an old, renegade bull, wandering far from 
the herd to die alone. The significant fact is, however, 
that not more than three years ago he grazed here and 
was here killed by an Indian; coupled to that is anothef 
significant fact, about one hundred thousand buffalo 
skins are taken to the settlements every year. Remember- 
ing both those facts and adding another, that it will be 
some days before we see even such a bull on the very 
outskirts of the buffalo range, what does it mean ? And 
here is a fact I nearly overlooked; those hundred thou- 
sand skins taken each year are from cow buffalo." He 
shook his head sadly. " The day of the buffalo, countless 
as their numbers still are, is fast setting. Their range is 
shrinking hour by hour, almost; and a comparatively 
few years more will see them gone. Wait till you witness 
the brainless slaughter when the herds are met with. 
Ah, well, we are a prodigal race, Miss Cooper, spending 
our natural heritage with almost a drunken recklessness. 
If it were drunken there might be found some excuse for 
us ; but we are doing it in our sober senses. Excuse me, 
when I get to thinking along those lines I'm afraid I get 
a little fanatical. There's something more interesting," 
he said, pointing to the north. " See it ? " 

After a moment's intense scrutiny she shook her head, 
and looked up at him inquiringly. 



i6o ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

"I forget that you haven't a plainsman's eyes," he 
laughed, "accustomed to focussing for long distances. 
Why, over there, well beyond that series of flat-topped 
prairie swells, is a red handkerchief waving lazily in the 
air. It is fastened to a ramrod, and I'm willing to bet 
that it belongs to Hank Marshall. He has been grumbling 
about a steady diet of bacon. Now that we are getting 
into antelope country, his disappearance from his trained 
mules is easily explained. I can promise you and Uncle 
Joe antelope meat tonight. He never would have planted 
that flag if he hadn't seen his victim; and while we are 
a long way off, let's ride on so he won't be able to blame 
us if he fails to get his shot." 

Patience was laughing heartily, and hurriedly ex- 
plained the cause of her mirth. 

" I saw him tie the bell to that old mule's neck. The 
sudden pride she showed, the quick alertness of the other 
seven, and the satisfaction shared equally by the mules 
and your partner was one of the most ludicrous sights 
I've ever seen. When Uncle Joe, who was in his best 
vein, explained the whole affair, I laughed until I cried. 
Is it true that the seven worshipers won't leave her?" 

Tom, laughing in sympathy with her mirth, nodded. 
*' Picket her, with her bell on, and we can let the others 
graze without hobbles or ropes. They won't leave her. 
Don't ask me why, for if you do I can only answer 
by saying that they have been trained that way; why it 
is possible for them to be trained in such a way, and so 
easily, is beyond me. When we left Independence Hank 
and I caught many a scornful glance directed at our 
ate jo, for I must confess that it was made up of eight 
scarecrows ; but handsome is as handsome does, and now 



EN ROUTE 



i6i 



our pack train troubles are confined solely to packing 
and unpacking the animals. We don't even have to 
remember what pack or aparejo belongs to each mule; 
they know their own unerringly, and will shower kicks 
on any careless or stupid companion who blunders up to 
the wrong pack. Perhaps you've heard that mules are 
stupid; that's something that you can discount heavily. 
They are stupid only when it serves their purpose." He 
laughed again. " We have one mule that takes a thrash- 
ing every morning, regular as a clock. Hank calls him 
* Dummy,* but I am not sure that he is well named. I 
can't decide whether he is dumb or perverse. But the 
fact remains that he never selects his own pack, and gets 
kicked along the line until he reaches it by elimination. 
I shall enjoy studying him as we go along." 

As they jogged on, a strip of timber running almost 
at right angles to their course and thinning out to the 
north in about the same proportion that it thickened to 
the south, came in sight and Tom knew it to be Cotton- 
wood Creek, and their last glimpse of the waters of the 
Neosho. He well remembered the somewhat sharp bend 
formed by it on the farther side, which was taken advan- 
tage of by some caravans and the corral formation 
ignored. A line of closely spaced wagons across the 
neck of the bend made corral enough. 

"Well, we better get back to the caravan," he said. 
"While the creek is all right there are many who are 
only waiting for a chance to cry that the officers are 
remiss in their duties. I'll leave you with your uncle, 
well guarded by six trusty knights, and go ahead with 
the advance guard." 

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and 



i62 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

the repression of her smile did not seriously affect the 
witchery of the dimples. 

"I was a little afraid that I might become lonesome 
on this long journey; but things have turned out splen- 
didly. Don't you think Dr. Whiting has a very dis- 
tinguished air?" 

"Very; it would distinguish him out of hundreds," 
replied Tom, scowling at the timber fringe ahead. ** He 
is quite impressive when he is silent. It's a pity he 
doesn't realize it." 

He turned in the saddle and looked behind. "What 
did I say? There comes Hank, with an antelope slung 
before his saddle. I doubt if the doctor would need the 
red handkerchief; antelope are notoriously affected by 
anything curious." 

She turned away and regarded the caravan studiously. 
" Isn't every man expected to do his share in the general 
duties ? " she asked. 

"Yes; but most of them dodge obligations. When 
we left Council Grove more than half of the members of 
the train were friendly to Woodson. By the time we 
leave Cimarron his friends will be counted on the fingers 
of your two hands. That is only what he expects, so it 
won't come as an unpleasant surprise. " 

" What is the doctor's party supposed to do ? " 

" Two of them have been assigned to the rear guard ; 
the other four, to our right flank. They can be excused 
somewhat because of their greenness. Besides, they only 
came along for the fun of it. In the college of life they 
are only freshmen. Its seriousness hasn't sunk in yet. 
The majority of the shirkers should know better, and 
have their fortunes, meagre as they may be, at stake. 



EN ROUTE 



163 



Well, here we are. You don't know how much I've 
enjoyed our ride. Uncle Joe," he said as Patience set- 
tled into the wagon seat, "here she is, safe and sound. 
I'll drop around with some antelope meat by the time 
you have your fire going." 

"It's been ten years since I've broiled game over a 
fire," chuckled the driver. " I'm anxious to get my hand 
in again. Thank you, Tom." 

Tom fastened the horse to the rear of the wagon, 
waved to his friends, and loped ahead toward the nearing 
creek. 



CHAPTER XI 

INDIAN COUNTRY 

AFTER an enjoyable supper of antelope meat, Hank 
Marshall drifted over to visit Zeb Houghton and 
Jim Ogden, and judging from the hilarity resulting from 
his call, it was very successful. The caravan was now 
approaching the Indian country and was not very far 
from the easternmost point where traders had experi- 
enced Indian deviltry. Neither he nor his friends were 
satisfied with the way guard was kept at night, and he 
believed that a little example was worth a deal of pre- 
cept. On his way back to his own part of the 
encampment he dropped over to pay; a short visit to 
some tender feet, two of whom were to mount guard that 
night. Jim Ogden, sauntering past, discovered him and 
wandered over to borrow a pipeful of tobacco. 

" Wall," said Ogden, seating himself before the cheer- 
ful fire, " 'twon't be long now afore we git inter buffaler 
country, an' kin eat food as is food. Arter ye sink yer 
teeth inter fat cow an' chaw a tongue or two, ye' 11 shore 
forgit what settlement beef tastes like. That right. 
Hank?" 

" It's shore amazin' how much roast hump ribs a man 
kin store away without feelin' it," replied Hank. " But 
thar's alius one drawback ter gittin' inter th' buffaler 
range ; whar ye find buffaler ye find Injuns, an' nobody 
kin tell what an Injun's goin' ter do. If they only try ter 
164 



INDIAN COUNTRY 165 

stampede yer critters yer gittin' off easy. Take a Pawnee 
war-party, headin' fer th' Comanche or Kiowa country, 
fer instance. Thar off fer ter steal hosses; but thar 
primed ter fight. If thar strong enough a caravan'll 
look good ter 'em. One thing ye want ter remember : if 
th' Injuns ain't strong, don't ye pull trigger too quick; 
as long as yer rifle's loaded thar'U be plumb respectful, 
but soon's she's empty, look out." 

"I've been expecting to see them before this," said 
one of the hosts. 

" Wall, from now on mebby ye won't have ter strain 
yer eyes," Hank remarked. " They like these hyar timber 
fringes, whar they kin sneak right up under yer nose. 
They got one thing in thar favor, in attackin' at night; 
th' twang o' a bow-string ain't heard very fur ; but onct 
ye hear it ye'll never fergit th' sound. Ain't that so, 
Jim?" 

Jim nodded. " Fer one, I'm keepin' an eye open from 
now on. Wall, reckon I'll be movin' on." 

"Where do you expect to run into Indians?" asked 
one of the men near the fire. 

Jim paused, half turned and seemed to be reflecting. 
" 'Most any time, now. Shore ter git signs o' 'em at 
th' little Arkansas, couple o' days from now. May run 
inter 'em at Turkey Creek, tomorrow night." 

Hank arose, emptied his pipe, and looked at Jim. 
"Jine ye, fur's our fire," he said, and the two friends 
strolled away. They had not been gone long when two 
shadowy figures met and stopped not far from the ten- 
derfeet's fire, and held a low-voiced conversation, none 
of which, however, was too low to be overheard at the 
fire. 



i66 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

"How'd'y, Tom." 

"How'd'y, Zeb." 

"On watch ter night?" 

"No; you?" 

"No. Glad of it." 

"Me, too." 

"This is whar Taos Bill war sculped, ain't it?" 

" They killed 'im but didn't git his ha'r." 

" How'd it happen ? " 

" Owl screeched an' a wolf howled. Bill snuk off ter 
find out about it." 

"Arrer pizened?" 

" Yes ; usually air." 

"Wharyegoin'?" 

"Ter th' crick fer water." 

"I'm goin' ter see th' capting. Good night." 

" Good night ; wish it war good momin', Zeb." 

"Me, too. Good night." 

At that instant an owl screeched, the quavering, eerie 
sound softened by distance. 

"Hear that?" 

The mournful sound of a wolf floated through the 
little valley. 

"An' that? Wolves don't generally answer owls, do 
they?" 

" Come along ter th' crick, Zeb. Thar ain't no tellin'." 

"I'm with ye," and the two figures moved silently 
away. 

The silence around the camp-fire was profound and 
reflective, but there was some squirming and surreptitious 
examination of caps and flints. The questioning call of 
the hoot owl was answered by a weird, uncanny, sue- 



INDIAN COUNTRY 167 

cession of sharp barks growing closer and faster, ending 
in a mournful, high-pitched, long-drawn, quavering 
howl. The noisy activity of the encampment became 
momentarily slowed and then went on again. 

The first guard came off duty with an apparent sense 
of relief and grew very loquacious. One of them joined 
the silent circle of tenderfeet around the blazing fire. 
" Phew ! " he grunted as he sat down, " Hear those 
calls?" His question remained unanswered, but he did 
not seem surprised. " When you go on, Doc? " he asked. 
" One o'clock," answered Dr. Whiting. He looked 
around pityingly. "Calls?" he sneered. "Don't you 
know an owl or a wolf when you hear one ? " There was 
a lack of sincerity in his voice which could not be dis^ 
guised. The doctor was like the boy who whistled when 
going through the woods. 

Midnight came and went, and half an hour later the 
corporal of the next watch rooted out his men and led 
them off to relieve the present guard. He cautioned them 
again against standing up. 

"To a Injun's eyes a man standin' up on th' prairie is 
as plain as Chimbly Rock," he asserted. " Besides, ye 
kin see a hull lot better if yer eyes air clost ter th' 
ground, lookin' agin' th' horizon. Don't git narvous, an' 
don't throw th' camp inter a scare about nothin'." 

An hour later an owl hooted very close to Dr. Whiting 
and he sprang to his feet. As he did so he heard the 
remarkably well imitated twang of a bow-string, and his 
imagination supplied his own interpretation to the sound 
passing his ear. Before he could collect his panic- 
stricken senses he was seized from behind and a moment 
later, bound with rawhide and gagged with buckskin. 



i68 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

he lay on his back. A rough hand seized his hair at 
the same instant that something cold touched his scalp. 
At that moment his attacker sneezed, and a rough, tense 
voice growled a challenge from the darkness behind him. 

" Who's thar ? " called Tom Boyd, the clicking of his 
rifle hammers sharp and ominous. 

The hand clutching the doctor's hair released it and 
the action was followed by a soft and hurried movement 
through the woods. 

"Who's thar?" came the low growl again, as Tom 
crept into the bound man's range of vision and peered 
into the blackness of the woods. Waiting a moment, 
the plainsman muttered something about being mistaken, 
and departed silently. 

After an agony of suspense, the bound man heard the 
approach of another figure, and soon the corporal of his 
guard stopped near him and swore vengefully under his 
breath as his soft query brought no answer. 

" Cuss him," growled Ogden, angrily. " He's snuk 
back ter camp. I'll peg his pelt out ter dry, come day- 
light." He moved forward to continue his round of 
inspection and stumbled over the doctor's prostrate form. 
In a flash the corporal's knife was at the doctor's throat. 
"Who air ye?" he demanded fiercely The throaty, 
jumbled growls and gurgles which answered him ap- 
prised him of the situation, and he lost no time in 
removing the gag and cutting the thongs which bound 
the sentry. " Thar, now," he said in a whisper. " Tell 
me about it." 

The doctor's account was vivid and earnest and one of 
his hands was pressed convulsively against his scalp as 
if he feared it would leave him. 



INDIAN COUNTRY 169 

Ogden heard him through patiently, grunting affirma- 
tively from time to time. "Jest what I told th' boys," 
he commented. " Wall, I reckon they war scared away. 
Couldn't 'a' been many, or they'd 'a' rushed us. It 
war a scatterin' bunch o' bucks, lookin' fer a easy sculp, 
or a chanct ter stampede th' animals. Thievin' Pawnees, 
I reckon. Mebby they'll come back ag'in: we'll wait 
right hyar fer 'em, dang thar eyes." 

"Ain't you going to alarm the camp?" incredulously 
demanded the doctor, having hard work to keep his 
teeth from chattering. 

"What in tarnation fer? Jest 'cause a couple o' 
young bucks nigh got yer h'ar? Hell, no; we'll wait 
right hyar an' git 'em if they come back." 

"Do you think they will?" asked the doctor, trying 
to sound fierce and eager. 

"Can't never tell what a Injun'll do. They left ye 
tied up, an' mebby want yer h'ar plumb bad. Reckon 
mebby I ought ter go 'round an' warn th' rest o' th' boys 
ter keep thar eyes peeled an' look sharp fer 'em ; 'specially 
them nigh th' animals. Bet ye stood up when ye heard 

" Yes, I did ; but I'll never do it again ! " 
" Thought so. Now you lay low out hyar till I tells th' 
others. Be back soon," and before any reply could be 
made the corporal had become swallowed up in the night. 
The weather was not warm, yet Doctor Whiting sweat 
copiously, and after he had been relieved and sent back 
to the encampment he had great trouble in falling 
asleep. 

Hank Marshall slipped up behind Jim Ogden as that 
person came in, and imitated the significant twang. Jim 



I70 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

jumped a foot in the air and then bent over, convulsed 
with silent laughter. 

" Dang ye, Hank ; I don't know how ye do it ! " he 
exclaimed. " I never heard th' like. Thar'll be one bunch 
o* greenhorns lyin' flat, an' all eyes an' ears from now on. 
I war weak from laughin' afore I went out to stumble 
over him. When th' guard war changed they couldn't 
hardly find him, he war spread out so flat. Jest like a 
new born buffaler calf that its maw has cached in a 
bunch o' grass. Bet ye could fool an Injun with that 
thar twang." 

" I've did it," said Hank, chuckling. 

The next morning Dr. Whiting was quite a hero, and 
as the caravan left the creek he rode by the side of 
Patience, talking until he had thoroughly exhausted the 
subject. After he had left her to go helter-skeltering 
over the prairie a mile ahead in eager and hopeful search 
of buffalo. Hank Marshall rode up to the wagon and took 
his place. 

He listened to Patience's excited comment about the 
doctor's narrow escape, and then, picking up the reins, 
twanged sharply, winked at her, and rode off to the flank- 
ing line. She stared after him for a moment and then 
stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth. When she had 
command over herself again she turned indignantly 
toward her chuckling uncle. 

" Just the same, it was a mean trick ! " she declared. 

" Giddap," said Uncle Joe, and chuckled all the more. 

" But it was ! " 

" It learned 'em all a lesson," he replied. " May save 
their fool lives, and ours, too. Giddap! " 

It was a long haul to Turkey Creek, but the caravan 



INDIAN COUNTRY 171 

made it and was corralled before dark. Buffalo signs 
had been seen shortly before the creek was reached, and 
when old Indian signs were found near the camp site, 
the day's excitement took on new life. A broken lodge- 
pole, some odds and ends of tanned hides and a discarded 
moccasin, somehow overlooked by the Indians' dogs, 
were discovered near the blackened spots on the prairie 
where camp-fires had burned. The night passed quietly, 
every sentry flat against the earth and trying to rob the 
senses of smell and touch to enrich those of sight and 
hearing. 

In leaving the creek, the two column formation was 
abandoned and the wagons rolled up the little divide in 
four evenly spaced divisions. There was some semblance 
of flankers and a rear guard now, and even the cannons 
were not forsaken. Then came the great moment. 

Two hours after the creek had been left the first herd 
of buffalo was sighted. That it was a small one and 
more likely to provide tough bull rather than fat cow, 
made no difference; rear guard, flankers, and cannon 
were forgotten in one mad, frantic, and ridiculous rush. 
Men dashed off toward the herd without even their 
pistols. In ten minutes a moderate sized war-party 
could have swept down on the caravan and had things 
nearly their own way. There would have been no buffalo 
meat in camp that night except that the experienced 
hunters with the advance guard managed to down two 
cows and three bulls before the yelling, excitement-mad- 
dened crowd stampeded the little herd and drove it all 
over the prairie. 

One tenderfoot, better mounted than his fellows, man- 
aged to keep up with a running bull, firing ball after ball 



V72 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

into it as fast as he could re-load. He was learning that 
a bull-buffalo was a hard animal to kill, and when it 
finally wheeled and charged him, he also learned that it 
was willing to fight when goaded and made desperate 
with wounds. Another greenhorn, to get better aim, 
dismounted and knelt on the earth. With the roar of 
his gun his horse, with all its trappings, gave one snort 
and ran away, joining the herd and running with it. It 
was an hour before anyone had time to listen to his 
entreaties, and then it was too late to go after the run- 
away animal. He hoofed it back to the caravan, an 
angry but wiser man, and was promptly robbed by the 
man from whom he bought a horse. 

It was an open question whether buffalo tongue or 
beaver tail was the better eating, but no one in the 
caravan had any fault to find with the portions of buffalo 
meat which fell to their lot. Despite the toughness and 
tastelessness of the old bull meat, it was the first fresh 
meat they had enjoyed since leaving Independence, with 
the exception of the few who had shared in Hank's 
antelope, and its poor qualities were overlooked. No one 
had a chance to gorge himself and to learn that over- 
eating of buffalo flesh causes no distress. They found the 
meat with the fat and lean more intermixed, juicier, and 
of a coarser grain than beef. The choice bits were from 
the tongue, the udder came next in merit, followed by 
the hump-ribs, tenderloins, and marrow bones. They 
were fortunate in the selection of the bulls which had 
been killed, for they were quite fat and in this condition 
ran the cow meat a close race ; all but one old bull, which 
was tough and stringy beyond belief. Despite the fact 
that the next camp spot was not very far ahead, the 



INDIAN COUNTRY 173 

caravan nooned on the open prairie for the cooking of 
the fresh meat. 

The captain signalled for the four-square corral and 
the evolution was creditably performed. The animals 
were unhitched and staked outside the enclosure and 
soon many fires were burning around the encampment 
and the savory odors of broiling buffalo meat arose on 
all sides. Coffee pots steeped or boiled at every fire, for 
coffee was the one unstinted drink of the caravan. It 
was not long before the encampment was surrounded by 
groups seated around the fires, most of the men eating 
with their fingers, Indian fashion, and from the universal 
satisfaction shown it was evident that buffalo meat had 
been given a high place by every palate. In contrast to 
a steady diet of bacon it was a feast fit for epicures. 
The travelers cared little about their good fortune in 
finding cows with the first small herd, instead of the 
usual vanguard or outpost of bulls, for the cows had 
been there and they had obtained two of them. Two 
hours later the caravan was moving again, and late that 
afternoon reached the Little Arkansas, where the first 
trouble with a treacherous river bed was experienced. 

Knowing what was in store for them, the captain and 
his lieutenants went ahead with a force of workers to 
cut a way through the steep banks and to bridge the 
muddy bed. They found that the banjcs had been cut 
by the preceding caravan, but the causeway by now was 
useless, except as a foundation for a new one. The 
stream was not very wide, but made up for that by the 
meanness of its bottom. The trees and brush along the 
banks provided material for the temporary causeway 
and it did not take long to build up a "bridge." 



174 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

The more or less easy-going manner of the captain 
changed here and his commands had a snap to them that 
should have given them an unquestioned weight. Be- 
cause of the restricted space chosen for the camp, the 
circular corral was formed, and as the divisions reached 
and crossed the causeway they fell in behind the last 
wagon of the one ahead and crawled around until the 
circle was complete and compact. All animals were to 
be staked outside the circle until twilight and then driven 
inside and hobbled for the night. Care was taken to see 
that there were but few gaps between the wagons and 
tliat those were securely closed by chains. 

The length of the first tour of guard duty was in- 
creased considerably, for the first watch went on as soon 
as the wagons stopped. They were getting fairly into 
the Indian country now. Directly north of them lay the 
range of the Pawnees; to the west of that the home of 
the Cheyennes; directly west of the Little Arkansas 
roamed the Arapahoes, and to the southwest were the 
Kiowas and Comanches, both of the latter superb caval- 
rymen. The last three tribes were being stirred by 
jealous New Mexicans to harass the caravans. And the 
interest of all these tribes, and of others beyond them 
in several directions, was centered on the prairie between 
the Little Arkansas and the valley of the Arkansas, 
eastward from where the latter river left the mountains. 
This was the great range of the buffalo, and the buffalo 
was food, clothing, habitation, and figured very largely 
in other necessaries of the savage tribes. 

The peculiar, curving, and ever-shifting migration of 
the great herds was followed by hunting parties, which 
became war-parties in a wink. Many were the blobdy 



INDIAN COUNTRY 175 

battles fought between the tribes on that stretch of 
prairie between the Little Arkansas and the two Coon 
Creeks. The Pawnees claimed sovereignty over that 
part of the country around Pawnee Rock, but it was one 
that the tribe did not dare to enjoy with any degree of 
permanence. Raiding parties from the south, west, and 
north constantly challenged their 'title, and because of 
these collisions hardly a hunting party dared show itself 
unless in strength. There were, it is true, small bands 
roaming the plains, especially after dark, which traveled 
on foot; but these were out with the avowed and set 
purpose of stealing horses, on which, if successful, they 
made their escape and rode home. This especially was 
^ Pawnee trick, and especially adept were the Pawnees 
in creeping up to a herd of draft animals and stampeding 
the whole bunch. More than one party of traders had 
thus been left afoot in mid-prairie and forced to abandon 
what they could not carry on their backs. While the 
Pawnee country was supposed to be north of the Platte, 
up around the Loup Fork, they often raided in force 
well into the Comanche and Apache country and were 
as much at home on the south side of the Arkansas River 
as on any other part of the plains. 

When the orders came to drive the animals inside the 
corral and hobble them, there was a great deal of com- 
plaint. It was contended that they could not get food 
enough in such a restricted space, crowded as it would 
be with horses, oxen, and mules; that they would injure 
each other ; that there would be great trouble in each man 
getting his own in the morning; that they would burst 
through some weak spot and wander away during the 
night. To all these objections the captain remained 



176 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

obdurate. Any man who left his animals outside the cor- 
ral and lost them would not be given replacements at the 
expense of other teams, and could make what shift he 
thought best for the transportation of his merchandise. 

Tom and his trapper friends, with some of the more 
experienced traders, went among the grumblers and la- 
bored with them, preaching that from now on the utmost, 
unremitting vigilance would be necessary day and night, 
for the danger of losing the animals would grow with 
every mile and would not cease until the Mexican settle- 
ments were nearly in sight. And the worse the weather 
was, the greater would be the need to be alert; for with 
tumultuous Nature to arouse the excitability of the ani- 
mals and to mask the movements of the Indians, a savage 
raid would scarcely fail to cause a wholesale stampede 
unless the strictest watch was maintained. To make up 
for the poor grazing inside the corralled wagons, the 
picketing outside the circle in the evening would be sup- 
plemented by more grazing on the outside before leaving 
in the morning. This would necessitate later starts, but 
it could not be avoided. 

Tom and Hank were not quite through eating their 
evening meal when Pedro paid them a visit. 

"Ah, senores," he beamed, "I haf laughed thees day! 
Just like my Mexico eet was to see thee ate jo that you 
haf ! Thee mulera weeth her seven childr-ren mar-rching 
behind her like soldats!" He leaned back and laughed 
heartily, his teeth gleaming like old ivory. 

Hank grinned and glanced at Tom. "If she'd only 
lead 'em 'round th' customs we'd think a hull lot more 
o' her. It riles me ter have ter pay ter git our goods 
inter a town arter such hard work gittin' 'em to it." 



INDIAN COUNTRY 177 

" Ah," replied Pedro, smiling broadly. " That ees thee 
law," he reproved them. "But I deed not know you 
were going to Santa Fe, senores. Eet was said some- 
where, by somebody, I do not remember who, that you 
were going to thee Sefior Bent on thee Arkansas. To 
hunt and to tr-rap, was eet not ? " 

Tom emptied his pipe and blew through the stem, 
"No," he said. "We're goin' ter Santa Fe. After we 
sell th' goods we aim ter go up ter Bent's for th' fall an* 
winter huntin' an' trappin'. Takes a lot o' money ter 
outfit two men th' way they should be, fer a hull season 
in the mountains." He grinned. "That's why we're 
packin' goods ter Santa Fe. Got to raise some money." 
Arising he nodded to his guest. " Now, if ye'll excuse 
me, friend, I'll leave ye with Hank. See ye later, 
mebby?" 

Pedro nodded and laughed heartily, wagging an ac- 
cusing finger at the young plainsman. " Ah, what should 
keep a br-rave cahallero from sooch a sefiorita! Pedro 
has eyes, sefior; an' Pedro, he weesh you ver' mucho 
luck. He weesh you so ver' mucho luck that per-rhaps he 
can get you past those customs. Of thees we weel talk 
more, eh?" 

Hank slapped his leg and pushed his plug of tobacco 
into the visitor's hands. "Smoke some of that thar 
Virginny, friend," he urged. " Ye'll find it some better 
than that thar husk, or wilier bark you people smoke." 
He looked at his partner and chuckled. "These hyar 
young fellers, now; thar jest ain't no holdin' 'em." 

Pedro thought that this particular young " feller " was 
going to be held very securely before he saw Santa Fe, 
but he grinned and waved his hand, and after Tom had 



'178 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

disappeared among the wagons he turned toward the 
hunter. 

" Has Sefior Boyd ever been een our Santa Fe ? " he 
asked in polite curiosity. 

Hank nodded carelessly. "He war thar some years 
back." 

"Perhaps then I can show heem a new way to thee 
city," said Pedro, significantly. " One that my br-rother 
knows ver' good. Thee knowledge of thees tr-rail ees 
of mucho less cost than thee customs that you an' me like 
so leetle. But of thees we weel talk more some other 
time. I must leeve you, seiior. Adios." 

"Adios, senor," beamed Hank, again offering the 
plug. 

After a quiet night and a somewhat later start than 
usual, the day's run to Cow Creek began, and not five 
miles from the camp site a sizable herd of buffalo was 
sighted. The same thing took place again, the same con- 
fusion, the same senseless chasing without weapons, but 
this time there was added the total abandonment of sev- 
eral wagons while the drivers, unhitching one animal, 
grabbed guns and joined in the attack, not realizing that 
mules hardly were suited for chasing an animal which, 
clumsy as it appeared, nearly equalled a horse in speed 
when once started on its awkward gallop. But in the 
results of the chase there was one noticeable difference 
between this and the previous hunt, for the green nim- 
rods had asked questions of the hunters since their first 
try at the prairie cattle, and they had cherished the an- 
swers. They no longer fired blindly, after the first flush 
of their excitement died down, for now they ranged up 
alongside their lumbering victims from the rear and 



INDIAN COUNTRY 



179 



aimed a little behind the short ribs, or a few inches above 
the brisket and behind the shoulder. And this hunt was 
a great success from the standpoint of the plainsmen wha 
had bought Colt's new-fangled repeating pistols, for they 
proved their deadliness in such capable hands, and 
speeded up the kill. 

A group of tender feet watched an old hunter butcher 
a fat cow in almost the time it takes to tell of it, slitting 
the skin along the spine from the shoulder to the tail, 
and down in front of the shoulder and around the neck. 
He removed it as far down as the brisket and laid the 
freed skin on the ground to receive the fleece from along 
the spine, the protruding hump ribs, which he severed 
with a tomahawk; and then he added the liver, tongue^ 
kidneys, certain parts of the intestine, and one shoulder. 
Severing the other shoulder and cutting the skin free on 
both sides of the body, he bundled up the choice cuts in 
it, carried it to his horse and returned to camp. In a 
few moments the butchering became general, and soon the 
triumphant hunters returned to the wagons with fresh 
meat enough to provide an unstinted feast for the entire 
caravan. 

The journey was resumed and the twenty miles to Cow 
Creek was made in good time. Here the difficulties of 
the Little Arkansas were again met and conquered and 
the wagons corralled before dark. 

It was at this camp that Tom and Hank became certain 
that they were being spied upon by Pedro and his com- 
panions. Seated around their fire, smoking with deep 
content after a heavy meal of fresh buffalo meat, Hank 
began to push his foot back and forth on the ground, 
making deeper and deeper, longer and longer, the groove 



l8o "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

his moccasin heel was slowly wearing in the soft earth. 
Finally his foot touched his companion's knee but, with- 
out pausing, kept wearing down the groove. 

" Th' geese went over early this year," he said, looking 
up at the starry sky. " Reckon we'll have th' hot weather 
a leetle ahead o' time on th' Dry Route." 

Tom did not change a muscle as the familiar, warning 
sentence struck his ears. "Yes," he replied. "Be glad 
when I gits inter Santa Fe, with th' cool mountains all 
around. Reckon you'll spend most o' your time playin' 
monte, an' be clean busted when it's time ter hit th' trail 
fer Bent's." 

Hank laughed softly. " Did I hear ye say Jim Ogden 
had some good likker ? " he asked. 

"That's what I said." 

" 'Tain't none o' that thar Taos lightnin' ? " skeptically 
inquired Hank. 

"How could it be, him jest a-comin' from Missouri?" 

" Wall," chuckled Hank, slowly rising. " Reckon I'll 
wander over an' see fer myself. Jim must be consider- 
able lonesome, 'bout now." 

" Must be, with only Zeb, Alonzo, Enoch, and a passel 
o' them fool tenderfeet a-settin' 'round his fire," snorted 
Tom. "Go ahead an' git yer likker; I'll wait fer ye 
hyar." 

It was only a few minutes later when Hank returned, 
shaking his head. "All gone," he mourned, and sat 
down again, regarding the dying embers. "Jest my luck." 

Tom laughed. " Yer better off without it," he replied, 
and communed with his thoughts. 

Minutes passed in reflective silence and then Jim Ogden 
loomed up beside them. "Come on over," he invited. 



INDIAN COUNTRY 



i8i 



grinning. "Thar warn't no use showin' a bottle with 
them thirsty greenhorns settin' 'round ter lick it up. 
Now that thar gone, we'll pass it 'round." 

Hank looked knowingly at his partner as he hastily 
arose, and the three went off together. When half way 
to the other fire Jim spoke in a low voice. 

" He war thar. Hank ; layin' in that little gully, watch- 
in' ye like ye war pizen." He turned to Tom. " Shall we 
go an' drag him out ? " 

" No," answered Tom. " Let him think we don't know 
nothin' about it. Him an' his trail inter Santa Fe! 
Reckons mebby that if them barefoot soldiers try ter take 
us in front o' th' caravan they'll get a good lickin' ; but 
if he can coax us oif from th' rest, he kin run us inter 
an ambush. If thar's airy way inter Santa Fe that we 
don't know, I'm danged if he knows it ! Let him spy on 
us, now that we know he's doin' it. Thankee, Jim." 

By the time they had reached Jim's little fire a figure 
was wriggling down the gully, and at an opportune time 
arose to hands and knees and scurried to the shelter of 
Franklin's wagons, a smile on its face. Now it was cer- 
tain that Tom Boyd was going through to Santa Fe, and 
all would be well. He chuckled as he recalled what he 
had said about the Mexican troops not meeting the cara- 
van until Point of Rocks was reached; they would meet 
the train at any point his messenger told them to. 

At Cow Creek another quiet night was followed by 
another delayed start and shortly after noon the van- 
guard raised a shout of elation, which sent every mounted 
man racing ahead; and the sight repaid them for their 
haste. 

Under their eyes lay the Arkansas River, dotted with 



i82 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

green islands, its channel four or five hundred yards 
wide, and so shallow that at normal stage it was formid- 
able at many points. While its low, barren banks, only 
occasionally tinted with the green of cottonwoods, were 
desolate in appearance, they had a beauty peculiar and 
striking. As far as the eye could see spread the sand- 
hills and hillocks, like waves of some pale sea, here white 
and there yellow, accordingly as to how the light was 
reflected from them. Its appearance had been abrupt, the 
prairie floor rising slightly to the crumbling edge, below 
which and at some distance flowed the river, here form- 
ing the international boundary between Texas and the 
United States. While territorially Texas lay across the 
river, according to Texan claims, actually, so far as 
supervision was concerned, it was Mexico, for the Texan 
arm was yet too short to dominate it and the ordinary 
traveler let it keep its original name. 

While its northern bank was almost destitute of timber, 
the southern one showed scattered clumps of cottonwood, 
protected from the devastating prairie fires from the 
North not only by the river itself, but also by the barren 
stretch of sand, over which the fires died from starvation. 
To the right of the caravan lay the grassy, green rolls 
of the prairie, to an imaginative eye resembling the long 
swells of some great sea; on the left a ribbon of pale 
tints, from gleaming whites to light golds which varied 
with the depths of the water and the height and position 
of the sun. Massive sand dunes, glittering in the sun- 
light made a rampart which stretched for miles up and 
down the river and struck the eye with the actinic power 
of pure, drifted snow. Here the nature of the prairie 
changed, losing its rich, luxuriant verdure, for here the 



INDFAN COUNTRY i8^ 

short buffalo grass began to dominate to a noticeable 
extent. 

The excitement spread. Eager couriers raced back to 
the plodding caravan to tell the news. Some of the more 
impressionable forthwith rode toward the river, only a 
few yards away, hot to be the first to splash in its waters ; 
but they found that prairie air was deceptive and that 
the journey over the rolling hillocks was a great deal 
longer than they had thought. But a few miles meant 
nothing to them and they pushed on, careless of 
Comanche, Kiowa, or Pawnee Picts, some with their guns 
empty from the salute they had fired at sight of the 
stream. The caravan kept stolidly on, following a course 
roughly paralleling the river and not stopping until 
evening found it on the far side of Walnut Creek after 
they had crossed a belt of such poor grass that they had 
grave doubts about the pasturage at the encampment; 
and the flinty, uncompromising nature of the ground 
down the slope of the little divide, in which seemingly 
for eternity was graven the strands of the mighty trail, 
seemed to justify their fears. But then, while they were 
worrying the most, the grass improved and when they 
had crossed the creek not far from its mouth they found 
themselves in a little, timber-fringed valley thick with 
tall grass. And they now had entered one of the great 
danger spots of the long trail. 

Hank Marshall got his fire started in a hurry while 
his partner looked after the pack mules; and when Tom 
came back to attend to the fire and prepare the supper. 
Hank dug into his "possible" sack and produced some 
line and a fish hook. Making a paste of flour, he mixed 
it with sonie dried moss he had put away and saved for 



i84 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

this use. Rolling the little doughballs and hardening 
them over the fire he soon strode off up the creek, looking 
wise but saying nothing; and a quarter of an hour later 
he returned with three big catfish, one of which he ate 
after he had consumed a generous portion of buffalo 
hump-ribs; and he followed the fish by a large tongue 
raked out of the ashes of the fire. To judge from his 
expression he had enjoyed a successful and highly grati- 
fying day, and since he was heavy and drowsy with his 
gorging and had to go on watch that night, he rolled up 
in his blanket under a wagon and despite the noise on 
all sides of him, fell instantly asleep. He had "set 
hisself" to awaken at eleven o'clock, which he 
would do almost on the minute and be thoroughly wide 
awake. 

Fearing for the alertness of the sentries that night, a 
number of plainsmen and older traders agreed upon 
doing duty out of their turns and followed Hank's exam- 
ple, "settin"' themselves to awaken at different hours; 
and despite these precautions had a band of Pawnees 
discovered the camp that night they most certainly would 
have been blessed with success; and no one understood 
why the camp had not been discovered, for the crawling 
train made a mark on the prairie that could not be missed 
by savage eyes miles away. 

Because of the height and the luxuriance of the grass 
within the corral the morning feeding, beyond the time 
needed for getting ready to leave, was dispensed with 
and the train got off to an early start, fairly embarked 
on the eastern part of the great buffalo range and a sec- 
tion of the trail where Indians could be looked for in 
formidable numbers. 



INDIAN COUNTRY 185 

This great plain fairly was crowded with bison and 
was dark with them as far as the eye could see. They 
could be numbered by the tens of thousands and actually 
impeded the progress of the caravan and threatened con- 
stant danger from their blind, unreasoning stampedes 
which the draft animals seemed anxious to join. Be- 
cause of the matted hair in front of their eyes their vision 
was impaired; and the keenness of their scent often 
hurled them into dangers which a clearer eyesight would 
have avoided. So great did this danger become shortly 
after the train had left the valley of the Walnut that 
the rear guard, which had grown slightly as the days 
passed, now was sent out to protect the flanks and to 
strengthen the vanguard, which had fallen back within 
a few hundred feet of the leading wagons. Time after 
time the stupid beasts barely were kept from crashing 
blindly into the train, and the wagoners had the most 
trying and tiring day of the whole journey. 

Several bands of Indians at times were seen in the 
distance pursuing their fleeing game, but all were appar- 
ently too busy to bother with the caravan, which they 
knew would stop somewhere for the night. No longer 
was there any need to freight buffalo meat to the wag- 
ons; for so many of the animals were killed directly 
ahead that the wagoners only had to check their teams 
and help each other butcher and load. This constant 
stopping, now one wagon and now another, threw the 
train out of all semblance of order and it wandered along 
the trail with its divisions mixed, which caused the sweat 
to stand out on the worried captain's forehead. His 
lieutenants threatened and swore and pleaded and at 
last, after the wagons had all they could carry of the 



i86 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

meat, managed to get four passable divisions in some- 
what presentable order. 

While the caravan shuffled itself, chased buffalo out of 
the way, turned aside thundering ranks of the formid- 
able-looking beasts, and had a time hectic enough to suit 
the.most irrational. Pawnee Rock loomed steadily higher, 
steadily nearer, and the great sand-hills of the Arkansas 
stretched interminably into the West, each fantastic top a 
glare of dazzling light. 

Well to the North, rising by degrees out of the prairie 
floor, and gradually growing higher and bolder as they 
neared the trail and the river, were a series of hills which 
terminated abruptly in a rocky cliff frowning down upon 
the rutted wagon road. From the distance the mirage 
magnified the ascending hills until they looked like some 
detached mountain range, which instead of growing 
higher as it was approached, shrunk instead. It was a 
famous landmark, silent witness of many bloody strug- 
gles, as famous on this trail as was Chimney Rock and 
Courthouse Rock along the great emigrant trail going up 
the Platte; but compared to them in height it was a 
dwarf. Here was a lofty perch from which the eagle 
eyes of Indian sentries could descry crawling caravans 
and pack trains, in either direction, hours before they 
reached the shadow of the rocky pile; and from where 
their calling smoke signals could be seen for miles 
around. 

Two trails passed it, one east and west; the other, 
north and south. The former, cut deep, honest in its 
purpose and plainness, here crossed the latter, which 
was an evanescent, furtive trail, as befits a pathway to 
theft and bloodshed, and one made by shadowy raiders 



INDIAN COUNTRY 187 

as they flitted to and from the Kiowa-Comanche country 
and the Pawnee-Cheyenne; only marked at intervals by 
the dragging ends of the lodgepoles of peacefully mi- 
grating Indian villages, and even then pregnant with dan- 
ger. Other eyes than those of the prairie tribes had 
looked upon it, other blood had been spilled there, for 
distant as it was from the Apaches, and still more distant 
from the country of the Utes, war parties of both these 
tribes had accepted the gage of battle there flung down. 
On the rugged face of the rock itself human conceit had 
graven human names, and to be precise as to the date of 
their foolishness, had added day, month, and year. 

While speaking of days, months, and years it may not 
be amiss to say that regarding the latter division of time 
the caravan was fortunate. Troubles between Indians 
and whites developed slowly during the history of the 
Trail, from the earlier days of the fur trains and the first 
of the traders' caravans, when Indian troubles were 
hardly more than an occasional attempted theft, in many 
cases successful, but seemingly without that lust for blood 
on both sides which was to come later. After the wagon 
period begun there was a slight increase, due to the need 
which certain white men found for shooting game. If 
game were scarce, what could be more interesting when 
secure from retaliation by the number of armed and 
resolute men in the caravans, than to pot-shoot some 
curious and friendly savage, or gallantly put to flight a 
handful of them? The ungrateful savages remembered 
these pleasantries and were prone to retaliate, which 
caused the death of quite a few honest and innocent 
whites who followed later. The natural cupidity of the 
Indian for horses, his standard of wealth, received a 



i88 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

secondary urge, which later became the principal one, 
in the days when theft was regarded as a material re- 
ward for killing. While they may have grudged these 
periodic crossings of the plains as a trespass, and the 
wanton slaughter of their main food supply as a con- 
stantly-growing calamity, they still were keener to steal 
quietly and get away without bloodshed, and to barter 
their dried meat, their dressed hides, their beadwork, and 
other manufactures of their busy squaws than to engage 
in pitched battle at sight. Had Captain Woodson led a 
caravan along that same trail twenty or thirty years later, 
he would have had good reason to sweat copiously at 
the sight of so many dashing savages. 

The captain knew the Indian of his day as well as a 
white man could. He knew that they still depended upon 
trading with the fur companies, with free trappers and 
free traders, and needed the white man's goods and 
good will; they wanted his trinkets, his tobacco to mix 
with their inner bark of the red willow; his powder, 
muskets, and lead, and, most of all, his watered alcohol. 
He knew that a white man could stumble into the average 
Indian camp and receive food and shelter, especially 
among those tribes not yet prostituted by contact with 
the frontier; that such a man's goods would be safe and, 
if he minded his own business, that he would be sent on 
his way again unharmed. But he also knew their lust for 
horses and mules; he felt their slowly growing feeling 
of contempt for men who would trade them wonderful 
things for worthless beaver, mink, and otter skins; and 
a fortune in trade goods for the pelt of a single silver 
fox, which neither was warmer nor more durable than 
the pelt of other foxes. And he knew the panicky feel- 



INDIAN COUNTRY 



189 



ing of self-preservation which might cause some green- 
horn of the caravan to shoot true at the wrong time. 
So, without worrying about any "deadly circles" or 
about any period of time a score or more years away, 
he sweat right heartily. And when at last he drew near 
to Ash Creek, the later history of which mercifully was 
spared him, he sighed with relief but worked with the 
energy befitting a man who believed that God helped 
those who helped themselves; he hustled the caravan 
down the slope and across the stream with a speed not 
to be lightly scorned when the disorganized arrangement 
of the train is considered ; and he halted the divisions in 
a circular formation with great dispatch, making it the 
most compact and solid wall of wagons seen so far on 
the journey. 



I 



CHAPTER XII 

AT THIS Ash Creek camp before the wagoners had 
, unhitched their teams there was a cordon around 
the corral made up of every man who could be spared, 
and the cannon crews stood silently around their freshly 
primed guns. The air of tenseness and expectancy 
pleased Woodson, for it was an assurance that there 
would be no laxity about this night's watch. With the 
animals staked as close to the wagons as practicable, 
which caused some encroachments and several fist fights 
between jealous wagoners, the fires soon were cooking 
supper for squads of men from the sentry line; and as 
soon as all had eaten and the camp was not distracted by 
too many duties, the cordon thinned until it was composed 
of a double watch. Before dusk the animals were driven 
inside, secured by side-line hobbles, which are much more 
effective than hobbling the forelegs, and all gaps were 
closed as tightly as possible. 

The evening shadows darkened and ran into blackness ; 
the night wind crept among the branches of the thin line 
of trees on both banks of the creek and made soft sough- 
ings in the tall, thick grass; overhead the sky first dark- 
ened and then grew lighter, shot with myriads of stars, 
which gleamed as only prairie stars can ; and among them, 
luminous and bright, lay the Milky Way. The creek 
murmured in musical tones as it fretted at some slight 



PAWNEES igi 



obstruction and all nature seemed to be at peace. Then 
sounded the howl of a buffalo wolf, the gray killer of 
the plains, deep, throaty, full, and followed by a quick 
slide up the scale with a ringing note that the bluffs and 
mountains love to toss back and forth. Yet it was some- 
how different. Woodson and his trapper aides, seated 
together against a wagon, stirred and glanced sidewise 
at each other. Not one of them had felt the reflex an- 
swer of his spine and hair; not one of them had thrilled. 
A simple lack; but a most enlightening one. 

Franklin bit into a plug of tobacco, pushed the mouth- 
ful into his cheek with deft tongue, and crossed his legs 
the other way. " Hell ! " he growled. " Reckon we're 
in fer it." 

"They jest can't git it all in, kin they?" commented 
Zeb Houghton, coming up. 

" No," answered Tom Boyd. " They leave out th' best 
part o' it." He glanced in the direction of the nearest 
fringe of trees, noisy cottonwoods all, and shook his 
head. "We been havin' too fine a stretch o' weather. 
Hear them trees ? In two hours it'll be blowin' hard ; an* 
I kin feel th' rain already." 

From the blackness of the creek there arose a series 
of short, sharp barks, faster and faster, higher and 
higher, the lost-soul howl climbing to a pitch that was 
sheer torture to some ears. 

"Kiyote sassin' a gray," chuckled Zeb, ironically. 

" * Upon what meat hath — ' " t)egan Tom, and checked 
the quotation. " He oughter be ti\ckin' his tail atween his 
laigs an' streakin' fer th' Platte ; or mebby he missed 
somethin', too," he said. " Everylhin' else shuts up when 
th' gray wolf howls." 



192 BRING ME HIS EARS" 

" Doubled watches air not enough f er tonight," 
growled Woodson, as a tremulous, high-pitched, chro- 
matic, and descending run in a minor key floated through 
the little valley. If it were an imitation of a screech-owl 
it was so perfectly done that no man in the caravan could 
detect the difference. 

"Us boys will be scoutin' 'round all night," replied 
Tom. " Hank an' th' others air gittin' some winks now. 
I don't look fer no fight afore daylight; but they'll shore 
try ter stampede us afore then. Reckon I'll take a good 
listen out yonder," he said, and arose. He went to Joe 
Cooper's little wagon and was promptly challenged. 

"It's Boyd," he answered. "Stick to the wagon. 
Uncle Joe. We ain't looking for any rush before day- 
light. If one comes Hank and I will get here quick. 
Where is Miss Cooper?" 

" In th' wagon, of course ! " 

"That's no place for her," retorted Tom. "Those 
sheets won't stop arrows. Put her under the wagon, an' 
hang blankets down th' sides, loose at th' bottoms. Tight 
blankets or canvas are little better than paper ; but a loose 
Mackinaw yields to th' impact somewhat. I've seen a 
loose blanket stop a musket ball." 

"Can I do anything useful, Mr. Boyd?" came Pa- 
tience's voice from the wagon. "I can load and cap, 
anyhow." 

Tom's chuckle came straight from his heart. " Not 
yet, God bless you. Despite their reputation in some 
quarters, Pawnees are not the most daring fighters. Any 
of the tribes east of the Mississippi are paragons of cour- 
age when compared to these prairie Indians. Pawnees 
y\rould rather steal than fight; and they know that this is no 



PAWNEES 193 



helpless caravan, but one with nearly two hundred armed 
men. If they were Comanches or Kiowas, Utes or 
Apaches, I'd be bothered a lot more than I am now. And 
they know that there are two cannons pointing some- 
where into the night. All we have to worry about is 
our animals." 

The mournful, hair-raising screech of an owl sounded 
again, and then all the demons of hell seemed to have 
broken loose around the camp. The corralled animals, 
restless before, now surged one way and now another, 
largely cancelling their own efforts because wave met 
wave; but all the while they were getting wilder and 
more frantic and the blood-chilling yells on all sides 
finally set them into a sort of rhythm which more and 
more became uniform. They surged from one side to 
the other, striking the wagons harder and harder. Then 
the yelling ceased and the Pawnee whistle was heard. 
There ensued a few minutes of silence and then the 
whistle sounded again. It set off a hellish uproar on one 
side of the encampment and the frantic animals whirled 
and charged in the other direction. The shock rocked 
some of the wagons and would have overturned them but 
for the great weight of their loads. Anticipating this 
surge of the animals some of the traders, told off by the 
captain, had bound bundles of twigs and dried grass 
to long Cottonwood sticks and now set them afire 
and crawled under the wagons, thrusting the torches 
into the faces of the charging mass. This started the 
animals milling and soon the whole herd was running 
in a circle. The stampede had failed. 

Here and there from under the wagons on the threati 
ened side of the encampment guns stabbed into the nighty 



194 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

showing where tenderfeet were gallantly engaged in 
guessing matches. Arrows curved over the wagon tops 
and some of the torch wavers on the other side of the 
camp had narrow escapes before their purpose was ac- 
complished and the torches burned out. 

A cricket chirped twice and then twice again not far 
from Joe Cooper's little wagon, and the alert plainsman 
crouched behind an outer wheel answered by three short 
trills. "Don't shoot, Uncle Joe," Tom softly called. 
"That's Hank." 

Hank seemed to be having a hard time of it and made 
more noise than was his wont. Alarmed, Tom was about 
to crawl out and help his friend to the corral when 
Hank's querulous complaint barely reached him. 

" Danged if ye ain't so plumb full o' buffaler meat ye 
nigh weigh a ton," growled the hunter. "Youm as 
heavy as mine, Jim?" 

" Wuss," complacently answered Ogden. 

" Huh !" snorted another voice, crowding so much 
meaning into the grunt that he had the best of the little 
exchange and the last word. 

" If I could twang like you. Hank," said Ogden, pausr- 
ing a moment to rest, " I'd have a hull dozen, danged if 
I wouldn't. Mine's got nigh ter six feet o' feathers a- 
hangin' ter him." 

Tom rocked back and forth, laughing silently. " Then 
he makes up fer th' rest o' yer dozen!" he gasped. 
"Hostages, by th' Great Horned Spoon!" He made 
some funny noises in his throat and gasped again. "A 
chief, too ! " 

"An' a plumb waste o' good ha'r," growled Hank. 
** But jest now it's wuth more on thar heads than fas- 



PAWNEES 195 



tened ter our belts. Hyar, haul this hyar warrior o' 
mine under th' waggin. I'm all tuckered out." 

"Hank kin shoot more arrers with his mouth than 
some Injuns kin with thar bows," panted Jim, grasping 
a spoke and yanking his captive roughly against the 
wheel. "All I kin imitate is a lance." He chuckled at 
his joke and rested. 

"When Hank twanged, Big Polecat, hyar, got right 
up an' stumbled plumb over me," said Zeb's weary voice. 
"I near busted his skull with that newfangled pistol. 
It's heftier than I'm used ter. Wonder is I didn't bash 
his brains out. Hyar, gimme a hand, I can't hardly 
wiggle no more." 

"Wonder what them danged fools air firin' at?" 
queried Hank, as several shots rang out in quick suc- 
cession from the other side of the encampment. " Don't 
they know th' dance is over till mornin' ? " 

"Oh, them greenhorns'll be shootin' all night," 
growled Ogden. " If thar's a rush at daylight they won't 
have no more powder an' ball. When they hadn't 
oughter shoot, they shoot ; when they oughter shoot, thar 
too danged scared to pull trigger." 



CHAPTER XIII 

HURRAH FOR TEXAS 

AT DAYLIGHT the only Indians in sight were sev- 
jTjL eral rifle shots from the caravan, but encircling it. 
Hostilities of every nature apparently had ceased, but 
without causing the travelers to relax in their vigilance. 
Breakfast was over before the savages made any move 
and then a sizable body of them came charging over the 
prairie, brandishing their weapons and yelling at the 
top of their voices. While not the equals of the Co- 
manches in horsemanship they were good riders and as 
they raced toward the encampment, showing every trick 
they knew, the spectacle was well worth watching. 

" Showin' off," said Jim Ogden. " Want ter talk with 
us. Now we got ter stop them fool greenhorns from 
shootin' ! " 

At his warning his companions ran along the line of 
wagons and begged that not a shot be fired until the 
captain gave the word. If the Indians wanted a parley 
the best thing would be to give it to them. 

Meanwhile the captain and two experienced men rode 
slowly forward, stopping while still within rifle shot of 
their friends. The charging savages pulled up suddenly 
and stopped, three of their number riding ahead with 
the same unconcern and calm dignity as the white men 
had shown. One of them raised a hand, palm out, and 
•when well outside of the range of the rifles of the en- 
196 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 197 

campment, stopped and waited. Captain Woodson, rais- 
ing his hand, led his two companions at a slow walk 
toward the waiting Indians and when he stopped, the two 
little parties were within easy speaking distance of each 
other. Each group was careful to show neither distrust 
nor fear, and apparently neither was armed. Erect in 
their saddles, each waited for the other to speak. 

" My young men are angry because the white men and 
their wagons have crossed the Pawnee country and have 
frightened away the buffalo," said the leader of the 
warriors, a chief, through an interpreter. 

"The buffalo are like the grass of the prairies," replied 
Woodson. " They are all around us and are bold enough 
to charge our wagons on the march and frighten our ani- 
mals." 

" From the Loup Fork to the Arkansas, from the Big 
Muddy to the great mountains, is Pawnee country, which 
none dare enter." 

" The Cheyennes, the Arapahoes, the Osages, and other 
brave tribes tell us the same thing. We do not know 
what tribe owns this prairie ; but we do know that friends 
are always welcome in the Pawnee country, and we bring 
presents for our brave brothers, presents of beads and 
colored cloth and glasses that show a man his spirit." 

"The white chief speaks well; but my braves are 
angry." 

"And my young men are angry because they could 
not sleep and their animals were frightened like the 
Comanches are frightened by the Pawnees," replied 
Woodson. " They are hot-headed and are angry at me 
because I would not let them make war on our friends, 
the Pawnees." 



198 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

** The young men of the Pawnees have not the wisdom 
of years and did not know the white men were friends» 
and had brought them presents of horses and powder and 
whiskey." 

"I have told my young men that the Pawnees are 
friends. We did not think we would meet our red 
brothers and have horses only for ourselves. Our whiskey 
and powder are for the great Pawnee chiefs; our beads 
and cloth for their young men." 

"It is well," replied the chief. After a moment's 
silence he looked keenly into Woodson's eyes. "The 
Pawnees are sad. White Bear and two of our young 
men have not returned to their people." His eyes flashed 
and a tenseness seized him and his companions. " Great 
Eagle wants to know if his white friends have seen 
them?" 

" Great Eagle's friends found three brave Pawnees in 
front of their thunder guns and they feared our young 
men would fire the great medicine rifles and hurt the 
Pawnees. We sent out and brought White Bear and 
his warriors to our camp and treated them as welcome 
guests. Each of them shall have a horse and a musket, 
with powder and ball, that they will not misunderstand 
our roughness." 

At that moment yells broke out on all sides of the en- 
campment and warriors were seen dashing west along 
the trail. A well-armed caravan of twenty-two wagons 
crawled toward the creek, and Woodson secretly exulted. 
It was the annual fur caravan from Bent's Fort to the 
Missouri settlements and every member of it was an 
experienced man. 

The fur train did not seem to be greatly excited by 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 



199 



the charging horde, for it only interposed a line of 
mounted men between the wagons and the savages. The 
two leaders wheeled and rode slowly off to meet the In- 
dians and soon a second parley was taking place. After 
a little time the fur caravan, which had moved steadily 
ahead, reached the encampment and swiftly formed on 
one side of it. With the coming of this re-enforcement 
of picked men all danger of war ceased. 

Before noon the Pawnee chiefs and some of the elder 
warriors had paid their visit, received their presents, sold 
a few horses to wagoners who had jaded animals and 
then returned to their camp, pitched along the banks of 
the creek a short distance away. The afternoon was 
spent in visiting between the two encampments and the 
night in alert vigilance. At dawn the animals were 
turned out to graze under a strong guard and before 
noon the caravan was on its way again, its rear guard 
and flankers doubled in strength. 

Shortly after leaving Ash Creek they came to great 
sections of the prairie where the buffalo grass was 
cropped as short as though a herd of sheep had crossed 
it. It marked the grazing ground of the more compact 
buffalo herds. The next creek was Pawnee Fork, but 
since it lay only six miles from the last stopping place, 
and because it was wise to put a greater distance be- 
tween them and the Pawnees, the caravan crossed it close 
to where it emptied into the Arkansas, the trail circling at 
the double bend of the creek and crossing it twice. Great 
care was needed to keep the wagons from upsetting here, 
but it was put behind without accident and the night was 
spent on the open prairie not far from Little Coon Creek. 

The fuel question was now solved and while the buf- 



200 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

falo chips, plentiful all around them, made execrable, 
smudgy fires in wet weather if they would burn at all, in 
dry weather they gave a quick, hot fire excellent to cook 
on and one which threw out more heat, with equal 
amounts of fuel, than one of wood; and after an amusr- 
ing activity in collecting the chips the entire camp was 
soon girdled by glowing fires. 

The next day saw them nooning at the last named 
creek, and before nightfall they had crossed Big Coon. 
Creek. For the last score of miles they had found such 
numbers of rattlesnakes that the reptiles became a nui- 
sance ; but notwithstanding this they camped here for the 
night, which was made more or less exciting because 
several snakes sought warmth in the blankets of some of 
the travelers. It is not a pleasant feeling to wake up 
and find a three-foot prairie rattlesnake coiled up against 
one's stomach. Fortunately there were no casualties 
among the travelers but, needless to say, there was very 
little sleep. 

Next came the lower crossing of the Arkansas, where 
there was some wrangling about the choice of fords,, 
many, fearing the seasonal rise of the river, which they 
thought was due almost any minute, urged that it be 
crossed here, despite the scarcity of water, and the heavy 
pulling among the sandhills on the other side. 

Woodson and the more experienced traders and 
hunters preferred to chance the rise, even at the cost of a 
few days' delay, and to cross at the upper ford. This 
would give them better roads, plenty of water and grass, 
a safer ford and a shorter drive across the desert-like 
plain between the Arkansas and the Cimarron. Event- 
ually he had his way and after spending the night at 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 201 

the older ford the caravan went on again along the north 
bank of the river, and reached The Caches in time to 
camp near them. The grass-covered pits were a curiosity 
and the story of how Baird and Chambers had been 
forced to dig them to cache their goods twenty years be- 
fore, found many interested listeners. 

All this day a heavy rain had poured down, letting up 
only for a few minutes in the late afternoon, and again 
falling all night with increased volume. With it came 
one of those prairie windstorms which have made the 
weather of the plains famous. Tents and wagon covers 
were whipped into fringes, several of them being torn 
loose and blown away; two lightly loaded wagons were 
overturned, and altogether the night was the most miser- 
able of any experienced so far. While the inexperienced 
grumbled and swore, Woodson was pleased, for in spite 
of the delayed crossing of the river, he knew that the 
dreaded Dry Route beyond Cimarron Crossing would 
be a pleasant stretch in comparison to what it usually 
was. 

Morning found a dispirited camp, and no effort was 
made to get under way until it was too late to cover the 
twenty miles to the Cimarron Crossing that day, and 
rather than camp without water it was decided to lose a 
day here. It would be necessary to wait for the river 
to fall again before they would dare to attempt the 
crossing and the time might as well be spent here as far- 
ther on. The rain fell again that night and all the fol- 
lowing day, but the wind was moderate. The river was 
being watched closely and it was found that it had risen 
four feet since they reached The Caches; but this was 
nothing unusual, for, like most prairie streams, the Ar- 



202 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

kansas rose quickly until its low banks were overflowed, 
when the loss of volume by the flooding of so much 
country checked it appreciably; and its fall, once the 
rains ceased, would be as rapid. High water was not 
the only consideration in regard to the fording of the 
river, for the soft bottom, disturbed by the strong cur- 
rent, soon lost what little firmness it had along this part 
of the great bend, and became treacherous with quick- 
sand. That it was not true quicksand made but little 
difference so long as it mired teams and wagons. 

Another argument now was begun. There were sev- 
eral fords of the Arkansas between this point and the 
mountains; and there were two routes from here on, 
the shorter way across the dry plain of the Cimarron, as 
direct as any unsurveyed trail could be, and the longer, 
more roundabout way leading another hundred miles 
farther up the river and crossing it not far from Bent's 
Fort, over a pebbly and splendid ford. From here it 
turned south along the divide between Apishara Creek 
and the Purgatoire River, climbed over the mountain 
range through Raton Pass, and joined the more direct 
trail near Santa Clara Spring under the shadow of the 
Wagon Mound. Beside the ford above Bent's Fort there 
was another, about thirty miles above The Caches, which 
crossed the river near Chouteau's Island. 

Each ford and each way had its adherents, but after 
great argument and wrangling the Dry Route was de^ 
cided upon, its friends not only proving the wisdom of 
taking the shorter route, but also claimed that the un- 
pleasantness of the miles of dry traveling was no worse 
than the rough and perilous road over Raton Pass, where 
almost any kind of an accident could happen to a wagon 



( 

I 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 203) 

and where, if the caravan were attacked by Utes or 
Apaches before it reached the mountain pasture near the 
top, they would be caught in a strung-out condition and 
corralHng would be impossible. The danger from, a 
possible ambush and from rocks rolled down from above, 
in themselves, were worse than the desert stretch of the 
shorter route. 

At last dawn broke with a clear sky, and with praise- 
worthy speed the routine of the camp was rushed and 
the wagons were heading westward again. Late that 
afternoon the four divisions became two and rolled down 
the slope toward the Cimarron Crossing, going into camp 
within a short distance of the rushing river. The sun 
had shone all day and the night promised to be clear, 
and some of the traders whose goods had been wetted by 
the storm at The Caches when their wagon covers had 
been damaged or blown away, took quick advantage of 
the good weather to spread their merchandise over sev- 
eral acres of sand and stubby brush to dry out thor- 
oughly; and the four days spent here, waiting for the 
river to fall, accomplished the work satisfactorily, al- 
though at times the sky was overcast and threatened rain, 
while the nights were damp. 

Some of the more impetuous travelers urged that time 
would be saved if bullboats were made by stretching 
buffalo hides over the wagon boxes and floating them 
across. This had been done more than once, but with 
only a day or so to wait, and no pressing need for speed, 
the time saved would not be worth the hard work and 
the risk of such ferrying. At last the repeated sound- 
ings of the bottom began to look favorable and word was 
passed around that the crossing would take place as soon 



204 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

as the camp was ready to be left the next morning, pro- 
viding that no rain fell during the night. 

Daylight showed a bright sky and a little lower level 
of the river and it was not long before the first wagon 
drawn by four full teams, after a warming-up drive, 
rumbled down the bank and hit the water with a splash. 
The bottom was still too soft to take things easy in 
crossing and the teams were not allowed to pause after 
once they had entered the water. A moment's stop might 
mire both teams and wagons and cause no end of trouble, 
hard work, and delay. All day long the wagons crossed 
and at night they were safely corralled on the farther 
bank, on the edge of the Dry Route and no longer on 
United States soil. 

That evening the leaders of the divisions went among 
their followers and urged that in the morning every 
water cask and container available for holding water be 
filled. This flat, monotonous, dry plain might require 
three days to cross and every drop of water would be 
precious. Should any be found after the recent rains it 
would be in buffalo wallows and more fit for animals 
than for human beings. Again in the morning the warn- 
ing was carried to every person in the camp and the need 
for heeding it gravely emphasized ; and when the caravan 
started on the laborious and treacherous journey across 
the fringe of sand-hills and hillocks which extended for 
five or six miles beyond the river, where upsetting of 
wagons was by no means an exception, half a dozen 
wagons had empty water casks. Their owners had been 
too busy doing inconsequential things to think of obeying 
the orders for a "water scrape," given for their own 
good. 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 205 

The outlying hilly fringe of sand was not as bad as had 
been expected for the heavy rains had wetted it well and 
packed the sand somewhat ; but when the great flat plain 
was reached and the rough belt left behind, two wagons 
had been overturned and held up the whole caravan while 
they were unloaded, righted, and re-packed. Since no one 
had been injured the misfortunes had been taken lightly 
and the columns went on again in good spirits. 

It was not yet noon when the advance guard came 
upon an unusual sight. The plain was torn and scored 
and covered with sheepskin saddle-pads, broken riding 
gear, battered and discarded fire-locks of so ancient a 
vintage that it were doubtful whether they would be as 
dangerous to an enemy as they might be to their owners ; 
broken lances, bows and arrows, torn clothing, a two- 
wheeled cart overturned and partly burned, and half a 
score dead mules and horses. 

Captain Woodson looked from the strewed ground, 
around the faces of his companions. 

"Injuns an' greasers?" he asked, glancing at the re- 
mains of the carreta in explanation of the " greaser " end 
of the couplet. The replies were affirmative in nature 
until Tom Boyd, looking fixedly at one remnant of cloth- 
ing, swept it from the ground and regarded it in amaze- 
ment. Without a word he passed it on to Hank, who 
eyed it knowingly and sent it along. 

"I'm bettin' th' Texans licked 'em good," growled 
Tom. "It's about time somebody paid 'em fer that 

t damnable, two thousand mile trail o' sufferin' an' death ! 
Wish I'd had a hand in this fight!" 
Assenting murmurs came from the hunters and trap- 



2o6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

trigger with the wearers of the coats with the Lone Star 
buttons. 

Tom shook his head after a moment's reflection- 
** Hope it war reg'lar greaser troops an' not poor devils 
pressed inter service. That's th' worst o' takin' re- 
venge ; ye Hkely take it out o' th' hides of them that ain't 
to blame, an' th' guilty dogs ain't hurt." 

"Mebby Salezar war leadin' 'em!" growled Hank. 
"Hope so!" 

"Hope not!" snapped Tom, his eyes glinting. "/ 
want Salezar ! I want him in my two hands, with plenty 
o' time an' nobody around! I'd as soon have him as 
Armijo!" 

"Who's he?" asked a tenderfoot. "And what about 
the Texans, and this fight here ? " 

"He's the greaser cur that had charge o' th' Texan 
prisoners from Santa Fe to El Paso, where they war 
turned over to a gentleman an' a Christian," answered 
Tom, his face tense. " I owe him f er th' death, by starva- 
tion an' abuse, of as good a friend as any man ever had : 
an' if T git my hands on him he'll pay fer it ! That's who 
he ^'s!" 

The first day's travel across the dry stretch, notwith- 
standing the start had been later than was hoped for, 
rolled off more than twenty miles of the flat, monotonous 
plain. Even here the grama grass was not entirely miss- 
ing, and a nooning of two hours was taken to let the 
animals crop as much of it as they could find. While the 
caravan was now getting onto the fringe of the Kiowa 
and Comanche country, trouble with these tribes, at this 
time of the year, was not expected until the Cimarron 
was reached and for this reason the urging for mileage 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 2^ 

was allowed to keep the wagons moving until dark. 
During the night the wagoners arose several times to 
change the picket stakes of their animals, hoping by this 
and by lengthened ropes to make up for the scantiness 
of the grass. In one other way was the sparsity of the 
grazing partly made up, for the grama grass was a con- 
centrated food, its small seed capsules reputed to contain 
a nourishment approaching that of oats of the same size. 

The heat of the day had been oppressive and the con- 
tents of the water casks were showing the effects of it. 
The feather-headed or stubborn know-it-alls who had ig- 
nored the call of " water scrape " back on the bank of the 
Arkansas now were humble pilgrims begging for drinks 
from their more provident companions. Tom and Hank 
had filled their ten-gallon casks and put them in Joe 
Cooper's wagons for the use of his and their animals 
which, being mules, found a dry journey less trying than 
the heavy-footed oxen of other teams. The mules also 
showed an ability far beyond their horned draft fellows 
in picking up sufficient food; they also were free from 
the foot troubles which now began to be shown by the 
oxen. The triumphant wagoners of the muddier portions 
of the trail, whose oxen had caused them to exult by the 
way they had out-pulled the mules in every mire, now 
became thoughtful and lost their levity. 

Breakfast was cooked and eaten before daylight and 
the wagons were strung out in the four column forma- 
tion before dawn streaked the sky. A few buffalo wal- 
lows, half full of water from the recent rains, relieved 
the situation, and the thirsty animals emptied their 
slightly alkaline contents to the last obtainable drop. This 
second day found the plain more barren, more desolate. 



,^o8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

its flat floor apparently interminable, and the second 
night camp was not made until after dark, the wagons 
corralling by the aid of candle lanterns slung from their 
rear axles. It was a silent camp, lacking laughter and 
high-pitched voices; and the begging water seekers, while 
not denied their drinks, were received with a sullenness 
which was eloquent. One of them was moved to com- 
plain querulously to Tom Boyd of the treatment he had 
received at one wagon, and forthwith learned a few facts 
about himself and his kind. 

" Look hyar," drawled Tom in his best frontier dialect 
^*If I war runnin' this caravan yer tongue would be 
-hangin' out fer th' want o' a drink. You war warned, 
fair an' squar, back on th' Arkansas, ter carry all th' 
water ye could. But ye knew it all, jest like ye know it 
all every time a better man gives ye an order. If it 
warn't fer yer kind th' Injuns along th' trail would be 
friendly. Hyar, let me tell ye somethin' : 

"We been follerin', day after day, a plain trail, so 
plain that even you could foller it. But thar was a time 
when thar warn't no trail, but jest an unmarked plain, 
without a landmark, level as it is now, all 'round fur's 
th' eye could reach. Thar warn't much knowed about it 
years ago, an' sometimes a caravan wandered 'round out 
hyar, its water gone an' th' men an' animals slowly 
•dyin' fer a drink. Some said go this way, some said to 
go that way ; others, other ways. Nobody knowed which 
war right, an' so they went every-which way, addin' mile 
to mile in thar wanderin'. Then they blindly stumbled 
enter th' Cimarron, which they had ter do if they fol- 
lered thar compasses an' kept on goin' south; an' when 
they got thar they found it dry ! Do ye understand that ? 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 209 

They found th' river dry! Jest a river bed o' sand, mile 
after mile, dry as a bone. 

"Which way should they go? It warn't a question 
then, o' headin' fer Santa Fe; but o' headin' any way 
a-tall ter git ter th' nearest water. If they went down 
they was as bad off as if they went up, fer th' bed war 
dry fer miles either way in a dry season. Sufferin? 
Hell! you don't know what sufferin' is! A few o* 
you fools air thirsty, but yer beggin' gits ye water. 
Suppose thar warn't no water a-tall in th' hull caravan, 
fer men, wimmin, children, or animals ? Suppose ye war 
so thirsty that you'd drink what ye found in th' innards 
o' some ol' buffalo yer war lucky enough ter kill, an' near 
commit murder ter git f urst chanct at it ? That war done 
onct. Don't ye let me hear ye bellerin' about bein' 
thirsty ! Suppose we all had done like you, back thar on 
th' Arkansas? An' don't ye come ter us fer water! If 
we had bar'ls o' it, we'd pour it out under yer nose afore 
we'd give ye a mouthful ! Yer larnin' some lessons this 
hyar trip, but yer larnin' 'em too late. Go 'bout yer 
business an' think things over. We're comin' ter bad 
Injun country. If ye got airy sense a-tall in yer chuckle 
head ye'll mebby have a chanct ter show it." 

Before noon on the third day, after crossing more 
broken country which was cut up with many dry washes 
through which the wagons wallowed in imminent danger 
of being wrecked, the caravan came to the Cimarron, and 
found it dry. Cries of consternation broke out on all 
sides, and were followed by dogmatic denials that it 
was the Cimarron. The arguments waged hotly be- 
tween those who were making their first trip and the 
more experienced traders. Who ever heard of a dry 



2IO "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

river? This was only another dry wash, wider and 
longer, but only a wash. The Cimarron lay beyond. 
Here ensued the most, serious of all the disagreements, 
for a large number of the members of the caravans 
scoffed when told that by following the plain wagon 
tracks they would soon reach the lower spring of the 
Cimarron. How could the spring be found when this 
was not the Cimarron River at all? They knew that 
when Woodson had been elected at Council Grove that 
he was not fitted to take charge of the caravan; that his 
officers were incompetent, and now they were sure of it. 
Anyone with sense could see that this was no river. If it 
were a river, then the prairie-dog mounds they had just 
passed were mountains. Here was a situation which 
needed more than tact, for if the doubting minority was 
allowed to follow their inclinations they might find a 
terrible death at the end of their wanderings. Dogmatic 
and pugnacious, almost hysterical in their repeated de- 
termination to go on and find the river, they must be 
saved, by force if necessary, from themselves. They 
would not listen to the plea that they go on a few miles 
and let the spring prove them to be wrong; there was no 
spring to be found in a few miles if it was located on 
the Cimarron. Woodson and others argued, begged, and 
at last threatened. They pointed out that they were 
familiar with every foot of the trail from one end to 
the other; that they had made the journey year after 
year, spring and fall ; that here was the deeply cut trail, 
pointing out the way to water, where other wagons had 
rolled before them, following the plain and unequivocal 
tracks. The debate was growing noisier and more heated 
when Tom stepped forward and raised his hand. 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 211 

"Listen!" he shouted again and again, and at last 
was given a grudged hearing. "Let's prove this ques- 
tion, for it's a mighty serious one," he cried. "Last 
year, where th' trail hit th' Cimarron, which had some 
water in it then, a team of mules, frantic from thirst, 
ran away with a Dearborn carriage as the driver was 
getting out. When we came up with them we found 
one of them with a broken leg, struggling in the wreck- 
age of the carriage. I have not been out of your sight 
all morning, and if I tell you where to find that wrecked 
carriage, and you do find it, you'll know that I'm tellin' 
th' truth, an' that this is th' Cimarron. Go along this 
bank, about four hundred yards, an' you'll find a steep- 
walled ravine some thirty feet higher than th' bed of th' 
river. At th' bottom of it, a hundred yards from th' 
river bank, you'll find what's left of th' Dearborn. When 
you come back we'll show you how to relieve your thirst 
and to get enough water to let you risk goin' on to th' 
spring." 

Sneers and ridicule replied to him, but a skeptical 
crowd, led by the man he had lectured the night before, 
followed his suggestion and soon returned with the word 
that the wrecked carriage had been found just where 
Tom had said it would be. The contentious became 
softened and made up in sullenness what they lacked in 
pugnacity; for there are some who, proven wrong, find 
cause for anger in the correction, their stubbornness of 
such a quality that it seems to prefer to hold to an error 
and take the penalties than to accept safety by admitting 
that they are wrong. 

In the meanwhile the experienced travelers had gone 
down into the river bed and dug holes in the sand which. 



212 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

thanks to the recent rains, was a masked reservoir and 
yielded all the water needed at a depth of two or three 
feet. After a hard struggle with the thirsty animals to 
keep them from stampeding for the water their nostrils 
scented, at last all had been watered and the wagons 
formed for the noon camp. Humbled greenhorns who 
had neglected the " water scrape " at the Arkansas were 
silently digging holes along the river bed and filling every 
vessel they could spare. They were making the acquaint- 
ance of a river of a kind they never had seen before. 

Here they found a dry stretch, despite the heavy rains ; 
had they now gone down or up its bed they would have 
found alternating sections of water and dry sand, and in 
the water sections they would have found a current 
Some of the traders maintained that its real bed was 
solid, unfractured rock, many feet below the sand which 
covered it, which held the water as in a pipe and let it 
follow its tendency to seek its level. The deep sand 
blotted and hid the meager stream where the bottom was 
farther below the sand's surface; but where the porous 
layer was not so thick, the volume of water, being larger 
than that of the sand, submerged the filling and flowed 
in plain sight. Some of the more uncritical held that the 
water flowed with the periodicity of tides, which like 
many other irrational suppositions, seemed to give the 
required explanation of the river's peculiarities. There 
was no doubt, however, about the porosity of its sandy 
bed, nor the amount of sand in it, for even after the 
most severe and prolonged summer rainstorms, which 
filled the river to overflowing, a few days sufficed to dry 
it up again and restore its characteristics. 

Having full water casks again the hysteria had sub- 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 213, 

sided and the caravan set out toward the lower spring, 
which was reached just before nightfall. Here they 
found two men comfortably camped, despite the fact 
that they were in the country of their implacable foes. 
At first they showed a poorly hidden alarm at the appear- 
ance of the wagons but, finding that they aroused no 
especial interest, they made themselves a part of the camp 
and began to get acquainted; but it was noticeable that 
they chose the hunters and trappers in preference to the 
traders, and carefully ignored the many Mexicans with 
the train. But no matter how careful they were in their 
speech they could not hide their identity, for the buttons 
on their torn and soiled clothing all showed the Lone Star 
of Texas, and to certain of the plainsmen this insignia 
made them cordially welcome. Among the Mexicans it 
made them just as cordially hated. 

Tom Boyd espied them when the corral had been 
formed and invited them to join him and Hank at supper. 
A few words between the Texans and the two plainsmen 
established a close bond between them, and they became 
friends the instant Tom mentioned the partner he 
had lost on the march of the First Texan Expedition. 
Hank's careless reference to the treatment his partner 
had given Armijo on the streets of Santa Fe caused them 
to look carefully around and then, in low voices, tell the 
two plainsmen about the events which recently had trans- 
pired between the Cimarron and the Arkansas. 

" Th' greasers in this hyar train air plumb lucky," said 
one of the Texans, who called himself Jed Burch. 
"Ain't that so. Buck?" 

Buck Flint nodded sourly. " They kin thank themt 
d — d dragoons o' yourn, friend," he answered. 



214 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

• — ■■ - ^ 

*' How's that? " asked Tom. " An' what about th' fight 
we saw signs of, a couple o' days back?" 

" It's all part of a long story," replied Jed, gloomily. 
"Reckon ye might as well have th' hull of it, so ye'Il 
know what's up, out hyar." He looked around cau- 
tiously. " Don't want no d — d greasers larnin' it, 
though. Who air these fellers comin' now? " 

"Good friends o' ourn," said Hank. "Couple o' 
hunters that hang out, most o' th' time, at Bent's Fort." 

Jim and Zeb arrived, were introduced and vouched for, 
and the little circle sat bunched together as the strangers 
explained some recent history. 

" Ye see, boys," began Burch, " us Texans air pizen 
ag in greasers, 'specially since Armijo treated McLeod's 
boys wuss nor dogs. So a passel o' us got together this 
spring an' come up hyar ter git in a crack they wouldn't 
fergit. Me an' Buck, hyar, was with th' first crowd, 
under Warfield, an' we larned 'em a lesson up on th' 
Mora. Thar warn't more'n a score of us, an' we raided 
that village, nigh under th' nose o' Santer Fe, killed some 
o' th' greasers, didn't lose a man, an' run off every hoss 
they had, ter keep 'em from follerin' us. But we got 
careless an' one night th' danged greasers an' settlement 
Injuns come up ter us an' stampeded all thar own bosses 
an' ourn, too, an' didn't give us a lick at 'em. That put 
us afoot with all our stuff. Thar warn't nothin' we 
could do, then, but burn our saddles an' what we couldn't 
carry, an' hoof it straight fer Bent's. We was on U. S. 
soil thar, so Warfield disbanded us an' turned us loose; 
but we knowed whar ter go, an' we went. 

"Colonel Snively war ter be at a sartin place on th' 
Arkansas, an' he war thar. We jined up with him an' 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 2^ 

went along tliis hyar trail, larnin' that Armijo war 
a-lookin' fer us somewhar on it. Hell! He warn't 
a-lookin' fer us : he had a powerful advance guard out 
feelin' th' way, but he warn't with it. We come up ter 
that party and cleaned it up, nobody on our side gittin' 
more'n a scratch. But we couldn't git no news about th' 
caravan that war due ter come along 'most any day, an' 
some o' th' boys got discouraged an' went home. Th' 
rest o' us went back ter th' Arkansas, campin' half a 
day's ride below th' Caches, whar we could keep our eyes 
on th' old crossin' an' th' main trail at th' same time. An' 
we hadn't been thar very long afore 'long comes th' cara- 
van, full o' greasers. But, hell: it war guarded by a 
couple hundred dragoons under yer Captain Cook which 
kept us from hittin' it till it got acrost th' river an' past 
th' sand-hills, whar U. S. troops dassn't go, seein' it's 
Texas soil. 

" Everythin' would 'a' been all right if Snively hadn't 
got polite an' went over ter visit Cook. They had a red- 
hot palaver, Cook sayin' he warn't goin' ter escort a car- 
avan till it was plumb inter danger an' then stand by 
an' let it go on ter git wiped out. Snively told him we 
warn't aimin' ter wipe it out, but only ter get th' greas- 
ers with it. They had it powerful hard, I heard, an* 
Cook up an' says he's goin' ter take our guns away from 
us if it cost him every man he had. Danged if he didn't 
do it, too ! " 

Flint was laughing heartily and broke in. " Wonder 
what he thought o' our weapons ? " he exulted. " Not one 
o' 'em that he got from our bunch war worth a dang." 

Burch grinned in turn. " Ye see, we had took th' guns 
belongin' ter Armijo's scoutin' party, an' when Cook took 



2i6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

up his collection, a lot o' th' boys, hidin' thar own good 
weapons, sorrerfully hands over th' danged escopetas an** 
blunderbusses an' bows an' arrers o' th' greasers. How- 
ever, he disarmed us an' kept us thar till th' caravan 
got such a big start thar warn't no earthly use o' goin' 
after it, thar not bein' more'n sixty or seventy o' us that 
had good weapons. Some o' th' boys struck out f er home, 
an' a couple o' score went with th' dragoons back ter 
Missouri. Us that war left, about as many as went home, 
made Warfield captain ag'in an' went after th' danged 
caravan, anyhow. We follered it near ter Point o' Rocks 
before we gave it up. Nobody reckoned thar war two 
caravans on th' trail this year, so Warfield an' most o' 
th' boys went back ter Texas; but thar's considerable 
few o' us roamin' 'round up hyar, dodgin' th' Comanches 
on a gamble o' gittin' in a crack at some o' Armijo's 
sojers that might come scoutin' 'round ter see if we has 
all went back. Anyhow, bein' so fur from home, an' 
hankerin' fer a little huntin', we figgered that we might 
stay up hyar till fall, or mebby all winter if we hung out 
at Bent's." 

"We made a big mistake, though," confessed Flint 
" Ye see, a greaser must 'a' got away from that fight an' 
took th' news ter Armijo. When we passed Cold Spring, 
f oiler in' th' caravan, we come on his camp, an' it war 
plumb covered with ridin' gear an' belongin's that none 
o' his brave army had time ter collect proper. Some o' 
us that had ter burn our saddles war ridin' bareback, but 
we got saddles thar. He must 'a' lit out pronto when he 
larned Texans war a-rampagin' along th' trail. From 
th' signs he didn't even wait fer th' caravan he war goin* 
ter protect, but jest went a-kiyotin' fer home." 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 217 

" He knew th' difference between starved an' betrayed 
Texans, an' Texans that war fixed ter fight," growled 
Tom. "Go on: what was th' mistake?" 

" Wall, Warfield said that if we had made that van- 
guard surrender peaceful, which they would 'a' done, 
we could 'a' captured every man, kept th' news from 
Armijo, an' larned jest whar ter find him. He would 'a' 
been waitin' fer his scoutin' party, an' some mornin' about 
daylight he would 'a' found a scoutin' party — from 
Texas, an' mad an' mean as rattlers. It don't alius pay 
ter let yer tempers git th' best o' ye, an' make ye jump 
afore ye look. We'd 'a' ruther got Armijo than th' 
whole cussed advance guard, an' th' rest o' his army, too." 

"With Salezar," muttered Tom. 

Burch jumped. "Aye!" he snarled. "With Salezar! 
Fer them two I'd 'a' been in favor o' lettin' all th' rest 
go!" 

" What you boys goin' ter do now ? " asked Hank. 

"Fool 'round up hyar, dodgin' war-parties that air 
too big ter lick," answered Flint. " We been scoutin' up 
th' river, an' our friends air on a scout back in th' hills, 
tryin' ter locate th' nearest Comanche village. We cleaned 
out one on th' way up, back on th' Washita. We're aimin' 
ter run a big buffaler hunt as soon as we locates th' hos- 
tiles." 

"How many are there of you?" asked Tom, thought- 
fully. 

"'Bout a dozen or fifteen: why?" asked Burch. 

"Not a very big party to be playin' tag with th* 
Comanches in thar own country," Tom repKed. 

With his foot Burch pushed a stick back into the fire 
and then glanced around the little circle. "Wonder 



2i8 *' BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

what th' white men o' this wagon train would do if we 
rode up an' asked f er th' greasers in it ter be turned over 
ter us ? " he asked. 

Tom smiled. " Fight as long as we could pull trigger," 
he answered. "We ain't betrayin' no< members o' th' 
caravan. Lord knows we don't like greasers, an' we do 
feel strong for Texas; but we'd be plain skunks if we 
didn't stick with our feller travelers." 

"An' what could we say when we got inter Santer 
Fe, if we dared go thar ? " asked Hank. 

Burch nodded, shrugged his shoulders, and changed 
the subject to that of the unfortunate First Texan Ex- 
pedition and the terrible sufferings it underwent, a 
subject at that time very prominent in all Texan hearts. 
It did not take them long to judge accurately the real 
feelings of their hosts and to learn that their sympathies 
were all for Texas; but even with this knowledge they 
did not again refer to anything connected with their 
presence along the trail; instead, they were careful to 
create the impression that their little party intended to 
start almost immediately northwest across the Cimarron 
desert for Bent's Fort, and from there to scour the plains 
for buffalo skins. They even asked about the Bayou 
Salade and its contiguous mountain "parks" as a place 
to hunt and trap during the coming winter. After dark 
they said their good-byes and left the encampment, to the 
vast relief of the Mexicans with the train. And that night 
and the next, the Mexicans who chanced to be on watch 
were the most alert of all the guards. 

After their guests had gone the four friends sat in 
silence for awhile, reviewing what they had learned, and 
then Hank spc4ce up. 



HURRAH FOR TEXAS 219 

"Reckon we better tell Woodson that thar won't be 
no greaser troops waitin' fer us this trip?" he asked. 

Tom was about to nod, but changed his mind and 
quickly placed his hand on his partner's shoulder. " No," 
he said slowly. " I'm beginnin' ter see through th' holes 
in th' ladder! Not a word, boys, ter anybody! Pedro's 
lie about thar bein' no guard ter meet us this year ain't 
a lie no more ; but he don't know it, an' he ain't goin' ter 
know it! Meantime, we'll keep our ears an' eyes open, 
an' be ready ter jump like cats. I got a suspicion ! " 

" I got a bran' new one," chuckled Hank. " Hurrah 
for Texas!" 



CHAPTER XIV 

TH^ VALLEY OP THE CIMARRON 

BECAUSE of the next stretch to certain water, a 
matter of about thirty-five miles, another very early 
start was made after the surrounding country had been 
searched by the plainsmen for signs of Indians. Although 
later in the season than usual for a caravan to cover this 
part of the route, the dreaded dry stretch along the usu- 
ally empty river bed was found broken here and there by 
shallow pools and advantage was taken of these to soak 
the wooden rims of some of the older and more faulty 
wagon wheels. One trader with a wagon which never 
should have left Missouri had been put to great trouble 
to keep the tires on his two front wheels and had "bor- 
rowed " about all the wire and hoop-iron his friends felt 
disposed to give him. He had driven so many pieces of 
iron between the felloes and the tires that daylight could 
be seen between the two; and on topping a little hill 
between two ravines near the river bank one of the tires 
slipped off and went rolling and bounding down the slope 
onto the dry river bed. Amid roars of laughter the col- 
umn stopped until he had recovered it and re-wedged it 
onto the wheel, and at the next nooning stop he drove 
the wagon into a trickle of water running down the 
middle of the river bed and spent most of his time back- 
ing and pulling to get every part of the wheels soaked. 
A strong body of scouts which had pushed on ahead of 



THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 221 

the column returned shortly after the noon camp had 
been left, and reported that about ten miles farther on a 
section of the river several hundred yards long was full 
of water. Not being able to make the Middle Spring 
that day, this wet section of the river was decided upon 
for the night camp, A score of mounted men were sent 
on ahead to scour the country for signs of Indians, but 
became so hungry for the numerous kinds of wild fruits 
and berries along the sides of the ravines, that they did 
their work poorly and did not reach the proposed camp 
site much before the caravan got there. 

The country was cut by a maze of ravines and gullies 
and studded with small hills, little pastures of excellent 
grass nestling between them. As the wagons filed down 
a narrow road onto a pasture fronting on the Cimarron 
a plainsman, who had pushed on ahead of the caravan 
because he doubted the seriousness and intelligence of 
the scouting party, was seen dashing down to the farther 
bank of the river and splashing across it without check- 
ing the speed of his horse. 

One look at him was enough for Woodson, and the 
sharp blast of the bugle cut the air. Wagoners whipped 
their tired teams into the best speed they could give and 
the clatter and screeching of the rumbling wagons filled 
the air as they raced around into the circular formation. 
The scout barely had left the river and the wagons still 
were forming when over the crest of a hill across the 
stream appeared a mass of horsemen, their lances stand- 
ing like drunken pickets against the sky. No need to 
ask what tribe they belonged to, for the hint conveyed 
by their lances soon was endorsed by their fantastic two- 
color blankets, one half red and the other half blue. Most 



222 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

of them wore, in addition to the regular attire of the 
plains Indians, a leather jacket, and from the heels of 
their moccasins trailed tassels, another mark of their 
tribe. 

These warriors, magnificent specimens of manhood 
and superb horsemen, appeared to be gigantic as they 
paused and spread out along the crest of the hill, boldly 
outlined against the bright sky behind them. They 
watched the running circle of wagons stop by jerks as 
vehicle after vehicle crowded against the one ahead of 
it and came to a stand, the teams inside the corral. They 
rode slowly down the hill, their numbers constantly 
growing, as a line of defenders moved out from the en- 
campment to interpose itself between the camp and the 
Comanche warriors; and as the line stopped to wait for 
the cannons to get into position the red enemy charged 
with a bedlam of whoops and yells. The two quick roars 
of the cannons and the hurtling solid shot, which raised 
dust-puffs high up on the hill, checked them and they 
spread out into two thin lines of racing horsemen running 
toward both sides of the encampment. 

Woodson, glad that the cannoneers had missed in their 
panicky aim, ordered the defenders to fall back to the 
wagons, which they were only too glad to do; but they 
did not obey his command to cease firing, and sent their 
hastily aimed balls in the general direction of the enemy. 
No harm was done by these, not only because of the poor 
aim but also because the racing Indians were as yet well 
out of rifle shot and were hanging over on the far side 
of their mounts. 

Tom ran to the frantically working cannoneers and 
threw himself among them without regard to how he 



THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 223 

handled them, shouting for them not to fire until Wood- 
son gave the word, and then to load with musket balls 
and fire as fast and true as they could. Franklin joined 
him, his face as black as a thunder cloud, and made 
threats they knew he would carry out if the instructions 
were not obeyed. 

The racing line drew nearer and nearer, those of the 
warriors who had guns discharging them into the air. 
It looked like a desperate fight was only a few seconds 
away when Hank yelled his discovery. Over the crest 
of the same hill appeared the women and children of the 
tribe, their dogs dragging burdens on their small travoises 
and the horses pulling the dragging lodgepoles loaded 
down with the possessions of their owners. This meant 
peace, for if war was intended, all but the warriors 
would have been sent away. Some of the more quick- 
witted of the plainsmen and traders waved their hats at 
the debouching village across the river, and Woodson, 
with Tom and Franklin at his side, held up his hand and 
walked toward the slowing line. An arrow suddenly 
quivered in the ground almost under his feet and he 
stopped, raising both hands. An Indian dashed back 
across the river, where he berated a group of non-com- 
batants and waved them toward the top of the hill. The 
traveling village instantly became a confusion of quick 
movement and climbed the hill and dipped over its crest 
much quicker than it had appeared. 

Woodson swore under his breath. " Reckon we got 
ter fight, boys. Look sharp an' fall back ter th' caravan. 
Drop th' first brave that lifts bow an' arrer!" He 
glanced back to see how far they had to go and glimpsed 
a dozen men under Hank and Zeb coming to their aid. 



224 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

He raised his hand to them and they instantly dropped 
to their knees, their rifles leaping to their shoulders. 
"Now," he grated. "We're bein' covered; turn an' 
run ! " As the three men reached the covering party they 
checked themselves, joined it, faced the savages, and the 
entire party fell slowly back to the wagons. 

" Funny they didn't send in more'n that one arrer," 
growled Woodson, thoroughly puzzled. "These hyar 
ain't Pawnee hoss-stealers ; thar fightin' men. Knock 
down that gun!" he snapped as a tenderfoot rested a 
powerful rifle across a wagon wheel. The man beside 
the amt^itious Indian fighter struck it aside and the ball 
went into the ground. " Th' next man as pulls trigger till 
I says fer him to is goin' to be d — d sorry!" cried the 
captain, drawing his pistol. 

1?he running line, moving back farther under the 
threat of the two cannons, gradually stopped, facing the 
waiting defenders. It seemed like the calm that precedes 
a storm. Then down the hill across the river came a 
small group of savages more outrageously decked out 
than any seen so far. 

"Th' chiefs," growled Woodson. "Hope we git out 
o' this without a fight. Even th' Comanches ain't usually 
anxious ter git inter a clawin' match with Americans, 
though they air th' best o' th' prairie tribes." 

" They do about what they please with th' Mexicans," 
replied Tom ; " but they've larned that Americans air a 
different breed, an' have better guns. But some o' thar 
raids inter Texas have puffed 'em up. I don't like thar 
village climbin' back over that hill." 

" If it's ter be peace, I'd a cussed sight ruther have it 
over th' hill than planted somewhar close ter us; they'd 



THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 225 

over-run th' camp an' friction would be shore ter grow. 
While mebby they can't steal as slick as th' Pawnees, 
they kin do it good enough ter make us cross-eyed watch- 
in' 'em. Some tenderfoot shore will ketch one of 'em 
stealin' his belongin's an' start a fight thar an' then, with 
a hull passel o' 'em inside th' corral. Wall, we'll soon 
find out what's goin' ter come of it; they've jined th' 
line." 

The white defenders eagerly watched the pow-wow 
being held to the southwest of the encampment, their 
rifles balanced for quick handling; then they slowly re- 
laxed and some rested their weapons on the ground. 
The consulting group of warriors split and from it, 
/iding with slow dignity toward the wagons, came two 
chiefs and two lesser warriors. They held up their hands 
when within rifle shot and stopped. Woodson, Tom, 
Franklin, and Haviland, mounted this time, rode with 
the same slow dignity out to meet them. Franklin could 
speak their tongue well enough to make himself under- 
stood, and Woodson and Tom knew the universal sign 
language well enough to express themselves in it. As 
they left the camp they caught a glimpse of another band 
of warriors riding around the upper end of the hill and 
roughly estimated the combined force to be close to five 
hundred. Here was good reason to be as tactful as pos- 
sible. When within speaking distance of the Comanche 
envoys they drew up and the two groups eyed each other 
in silence for several minutes. 

" Our village on the Washita is no more," said a chief 
who had enough long hair to supply any hirsute deficiency 
of a dozen men and not suffer by it. " Its ashes are 
blown by the winds and its smoke brings tears to the 



226 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

eyes of our squaws and children. Our winter maize is 
gone and our storehouses lie about the ground. White 
Buffalo and his braves were hunting the buffalo beyond 
the Cimarron. Their old men and their squaws and 
children were with them. Some of my young men have 
just returned and brought us this news. What have the 
white men to say of this? " 

'' Our hearts are heavy for our friends the Comanches," 
answered Woodson. "There are many tribes of white 
men, as there are many tribes of Indians. There are the 
Americanos, the Mexicanos, the Englise, and the Tejanos. 
The Americans come from the North and the East along 
their gi'eat trail, with goods to trade and with friendship 
for the Comanches. The Mexicanos would not dare to 
burn a Comanche village; but with the Tejanos are not 
the Comanches at war? And we have seen Tejanos near 
the trail. We have seen where they defeated Armijo's 
soldiers, almost within sight of the Arkansas River. 
Cannot White Buffalo read the signs on the earth? Our 
trail is plain for many days to the east, for all to see. 
Has he seen our wagon tracks to the Washita ? Are his 
young men blind? We are many and strong and have 
thunder guns, but we do not fight except to protect our- 
selves and our goods. We are traders." 

"We are warriors!" exclaimed the chief. "We also 
are many and strong, and our lances are short that our 
courage may be long. White Buffalo has listened. He 
believes that the white chief speaks with a single tongue. 
His warriors want the white man's guns and powder; 
medicine guns that shoot like the clapping of hands. 
Such have the Tejanos. He has skins and meat and 
fnulos." 



THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 227 

"The medicine guns are Tejano medicine," replied 
Woodson. " We have only such as I see in the hands of 
some of our friends, the Comanches. Powder and lead 
we have little, for we have come far and killed much 
game; blue and red cloth we have, medicine glasses, 
beads, awls, knives, tobacco, and firewater we have much 
of. Our mules are strong and we need no more." He 
looked shrewdly at a much-bedecked Indian at the chief's 
side. "We have presents for the Comanche Medicine 
Man that only his eyes may see." 

The medicine man's face did not change a muscle but 
there came a gleam to his eyes that Woodson noted. 

"The Comanches are not like the Pawnees or Chey- 
ennes to kill their eyes and ears with firewater," retorted 
the chief. " We are not Pawnee dogs that we must hide 
from ourselves and see things that are not. Our hair is 
long, that those may take it who can. I have spoken." 

There was some further talk in which was arranged a 
visit from the Comanche chief; the bartering price of 
mules, skins, and meat, as was the custom of this tribe; 
a long-winded exchange of compliments and assurances 
of love and good will, in the latter both sides making 
plenty of reservations. 

When Woodson and his companions returned to the 
encampment they went among the members of the cara- 
van with explicit instructions, hoping by the use of tact 
and common sense to avert friction with their expected 
visitors. Small articles were put away and the wagon 
covers tightly drawn to minimize the opportunities of the 
Indians for theft. 

The night passed quietly and the doubled guard appar- 
ently was wasted Shortly after daylight the opposite 



228 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* ^ 

hill suddenly swarmed with dashing warriors, whose 
horsemanship was a revelation to some of the tenderfeet. 
Following the warriors came the non-combatants of the 
tribe, pouring down the slope in noisy confusion. Wood- 
son swore under his breath as he saw the moving village 
enter the shallow waters of the river to camp on the same 
side with the caravan, for it seemed that his flowery 
assurances of love and esteem had been taken at their 
face value; but he was too wise to credit this, knowing 
that Indians were quick to take advantage of any excuse 
that furthered their ends. The closer together the two 
camps were the more easily could the Indians over-run 
the corralled traders. 

Reaching the encampment's side of the stream the 
lodges were erected with most praiseworthy speed, laid 
out in rows, and the work finished in a remarkably short 
time. The conical lodges averaged more than a dozen 
feet in diameter and some of them, notably that of the 
chief, were somewhere near twice that size. 

In the middle of the morning the chiefs and the more 
important warriors paid their visit to the corral and were 
at once put in good spirits by a salute from the cannons, 
a passing of the red-stone pipes, and by receiving pres- 
ents of tobacco and trade goods. While they sat on the 
ground before Woodson's wagon and smoked, the medi- 
cine man seemed restless and finally arose to wander 
about. He bumped into Tom Boyd, who had been waiting 
to see him alone, and was quickly led to Franklin's wagon 
where the owner, hiding his laughter, was waiting. It 
is well to have the good will of the chiefs, but it is better 
also to have that of the medicine m_an; and wily Hank 
Marshall never overlooked that end of it when on a 



THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 22^ 

trading expedition among the Indians. He had let Wood- 
son into his secret before the parley of the day before, 
and now his scheme was about to bear fruit. 

Franklin made some mysterious passes over a little pile 
of goods which was covered with a gaudy red cloth on 
which had been fastened some beads and tinsel; and as 
he did so, both Tom and Hank knelt and bowed their 
heads. Franklin stepped back as if fearful of instant 
destruction, and then turned to the medicine man, who 
had overlooked nothing, with an expression of reverent 
awe on his face. 

For the next few minutes Franklin did very well, con- 
sidering that he knew very little of what he was talking 
about, but he managed to convey the information that 
under the red cloth was great medicine, found near the 
"Thunderer's Nest," not far from the great and sacred 
red pipestone quarry of the far north. The mention of 
this Mecca of the Indians, sacred in almost every system 
of Indian mythology, made a great impression on the 
medicine man and it was all he could do to keep his 
avaricious fingers off the cloth and wait until Franklin's 
discourse was finished. The orator wound up almost in 
a whisper. 

" Here is a sour water that has the power to foretell 
peace or war," he declaimed, tragically. " There are two 
powders, found by the chief of the Hurons, under the 
very nest of the Thunder Bird. They look alike, yet 
they are different. One has no taste and if it is put into 
some of the sour water the water sleeps and tells of 
peace; but if the other, which has a taste, is put in the 
medicine water, the water boils and cries for war. It 
is powerful medicine and always works." 



230 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

The eyes of the red fakir gleamed, for with him often 
lay the decision as to peace or war, and in this respect 
his power was greater even than that of a chief. After a 
short demonstration with the water, to which had been 
added a few drops of acid, the two powders, one of which 
was soda, were tested out. The medicine man slipped his 
presents under his robe, placed his fingers on his lips and 
strode away. When the next Comanche war-council was 
held he would be a dominating figure, and the fame of 
his medicine would spread far and wide over the Indian 
country. 

" Got him, body an' soul ! " chuckled Franklin, rubbing 
his hands. " Did ye see his mean ol' eyes near pop out 
when she fizzed? He saw all th' rest o' th' stuff an* 
he won't rest till he gits it all ; an' he won't git it all till 
his tribe or us has left. He plumb likes th' fizz combina- 
tion, an' mebby would want to try it out hyar an' now. 
Thar won't be no trouble with these Injuns this trip." 

" An' that thar black sand ye gave him," laughed Hank, 
leaning back against a wagon wheel, "that looks like 
powder, so he kin make his spell over real powder, slip 
th' sand in its place, an' show how his medicine will fix 
th' powder of thar enemies so it won't touch off! Did 
ye see th' grin on his leather face, when he savvied that ? 
He's a wise ol' fakir, he is ! " 

Tom grinned at Franklin. " Hank, here, has got th' 
medicine men o' th' Piegan Blackfeet eatin' out o' his 
hand. Every time th' Crows git after him too danged 
hot he heads fer th' Blackfoot country. They only fol- 
lered him thar onct. What all did ye give 'em. Hank? " 

" Oh, lots o' little things," chuckled Hank, reminis- 
cently. " Th' medicine men o' th' Blackfeet air th' great- 



THE VALLEY OP THE CIMARRON 251 

est in th' world ; thar ain't no others kin come within a 
mile o' 'em, thanks ter me an' a chemist I know back in 
St. Louie. Th' other traders alius git what I leave." 

When the important Indian visitors left there was 
quite a little ceremony, and the camp was quiet until 
after the noon meal. Early in the afternoon, according 
to the agreement with the chief and the medicine man, 
the Indians visited the encampment in squads, and at no 
time was there more than thirty or forty savages in the 
encampment at once. Instead of the usual attempted 
stampede of the animals at night all was peaceful; and 
instead of having to remain for two or three days in 
camp, at all times in danger of a change in the mood of 
the savages, the caravan was permitted to leave on the 
following morning, which miracle threw Woodson into 
more or less of a daze. As the last wagon rounded a 
hillock several miles from the camp site a mounted Co- 
manche rode out of the brush and went along the column 
until he espied Franklin; and a few moments later 
he rode into the brush again, a bulging red cloth bundle 
stowed under his highly ornamented robe. 

But there was more than the desire to trade, the pro- 
fessed friendship and the bribery of the medicine man 
that operated for peace in the minds of the Comanches. 
Never so early in the history of the trail had they attacked 
any caravan as large as this one and got the best of the 
fight. In all the early years of the trail the white men 
killed in such encounters under such conditions, could [ 

be counted on the fingers of one hand; while the Indian i;] 

losses had been considerable. With all their vaunted 
courage the Comanches early had learned the difference 
between Americans and Mexicans, and most of their 



232 "B RING ME HIS EARS'* 

• ~ » 

attempts against large caravans had been more for the 
purpose of stampeding the animals than for fighting, and 
their efforts mostly had been *' full of sound and fury," 
like Macbeth's idiot's tale, and signified nothing. Still, 
the caravan breathed easier as mile after mile took it 
away from that encampment; but their escape was not 
regarded so seriously as to make them pass Middle 
Spring, where good water always could be found, ^'ad 
here they corralled. 

Tom and his friends had grown more alert since leav- 
ing the Arkansas, and without showing it had kept a close 
watch over Pedro and his companions. The actions of 
these and of a few Americans, Franklin among the lat- 
ter, seemed to merit scrutiny. A subtle change was taking 
place in them. Franklin spent more of his time near Tom 
and Hank, and Pedro and some of the Mexicans were 
showing a veiled elation tinged with anxiety. Wherever 
Tom went he was watched, and if he joined the advance 
guard, or the rear guard, or the flanking parties, Frank- 
lin was certain to show up. He seemed to have taken a 
belated but strong fancy to the young plainsman. When 
Hank and Tom took the packs from the backs of their 
mules at night not a move they made was missed; and 
they soon learned that quite a few of the Mexicans were 
sleeping in the wagons of friends during the morning 
traveling. 

It was here at Middle Spring where Tom and Jim 
Ogden staged a serious disagreement, which spread to one 
between Hank Marshall and Zeb Houghton, and resulted 
in the two sets of partners becoming estranged. When 
questioned about it in indirect ways by Franklin, Ogden 
sullenly said that he could handle his troubles without 



THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 2331 

the aid of others, and would handle them " danged quick " 
if a certain plainsman didn't look out. Zeb was not so 
cautious and his remarks, vague as they were, were plain 
enough to bring fleeting smiles to the faces of Pedro and 
his friends. 

The grass was better here than at any place since the 
Arkansas had been left and as some of the animals were 
beginning to show unmistakable signs of the long jour- 
ney, it was decided to remain here another night and 
give them a chance to recuperate a little. The news was 
hailed joyfully and numerous hunting parties were ar- 
ranged at the fires the first night. Woodson called for 
volunteers to form a strong day guard for the animals, 
which he wanted driven from the camp to graze over the 
best grass, and he asked for another strong guard to 
watch the corral, since Comanches, Pawnee Picts, 
Kiowas, and even more northern tribes out on horse- 
stealing expeditions could be looked for without unduly 
straining the imagination. Arapahoes, Utes, and even 
Cheyennes were not strangers to the valley of the Cim- 
arron, and once in a while Apache raiders paid it flying 
visits. 

Woodson made the round of the fires, trying to dis- 
courage the formation of so many small hunting parties 
while the caravan was corralled in such broken and dan- 
gerous country, and succeeded in reducing the numbers 
of the hunters about half and in consolidating them into 
two large parties, capable of offering some sort of resist- 
ance to an Indian attack. One of these he put under the 
command of Hank, to that person's great disgust, for 
Hank had planned to go on a hunt with his partner, and 
to join Ogden and Houghton when well away from the 



234 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

camp. Tom was to remain with the wagons ; Ogden was 
to have charge of the other hunting party, and Houghton 
and Franklin were to stay near the grazing herd. 

The fires dimmed here and there as their builders 
forsook them for blankets; others glowed brilliantly, 
among them the fire of Tom and Hank. The former had 
said good night to Joe Cooper and Patience and was 
walking toward his fire when Pedro silently joined him 
and went along with him. Hank was off entertaining a 
party of tenderfeet with tales of miraculous adventures 
in the mountains, and after lying to the best of his ability 
for two hours, and hardly being questioned, he described 
a wonderful country lying east of Henry's Fork of the 
Snake River; south of the Snow Mountains; north of 
Jackson's Lake and west of the Shoshones Mountains. 
It lay along the Yellowstone River and the headwaters 
of the Stinking Water, and it contained all manner of 
natural wonders, which he described earnestly and graph- 
ically, to bursts of laughter. The more earnest he became 
the more his auditors roared and finally he got to his 
feet, glared around the circle, declared he was not going 
to "eddicate airy passel o' danged fools," and stalked 
away in high dudgeon, muttering fiercely. Reaching his 
own fire he threw himself down by it and glared at the 
glowing embers as if he held them responsible. 

Tom nudged Pedro. " Somebody ask ye fer a left- 
hand wipin' stick. Hank?" he asked. 

"Thar a passel o' fools!" snorted Hank. "If boss 
sense war ten paces wide an' ten miles long in every man, 
ye couldn't collect enough o' it in th' whole danged party 
fer ter make an ear tab fer a buffaler gnat ! " 

" Tellin' 'em about that thar river ye saw that couldn't 



THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 235 

find no way outer th' valley, an' finally had ter flow up 
over a mounting?" 

"Ye mean them up-side-down water falls?" queried 
Hank, grinning. "Yes, an' some o' 'em come clost ter 
swallerin' it. Why, I sot thar an' filled 'em plumb ter 
th' ears with lies an' they didn't hardly wink an eye. 
Then I told 'em o' that valley on th' Yallerstun, whar th' 
Injuns won't go because they figger it's th' home o' 
th' Devil. An' th' more I told 'em about it, th' more th' 
danged fools laughed ! I'd like ter hold 'em over one o' 
them thar water-squirts, or push 'em down into th' 
bilin' mud pots ! Swallered th' lies, dang 'em, an' spit out 
th' truth ! " 

Tom roared and after a moment looked curiously at 
his partner. *' I thought ye said you'd never tell nobody 
about that country ag'in ? " 

" Oh, I felt so danged sorry f er thar ignorance that I 
reckoned I'd eddicate 'em, th' dumb fools! If I had a 
ox an' it didn't know more'n them all put together, 
danged if I wouldn't shoot it!" He sliced off a pipeful 
of tobacco and pulled an ember from the fire. "What 
you an' Pedro been hatchin' out?" 

"Nothin', yit," answered Tom; "but I would like ter 
hear a little more 'bout that thar roundabout trail inter 
Santa Fe." He looked at Pedro. " How fur away from 
hyar does it begin ? " 

"Not so ver' far, sefior," answered the Mexican. 
"Thees way from thee Upper Spr-ring, where thee 
soldats are used to meet thee car-ravan. We come to eet 
soon. We should leeve thees camp tomor-row night." 

" What's th' use o' that when ye said th' soldiers ain't 
goin' ter meet us this year ? " demanded Tom. 



236 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

" Why don't they meet th' trains whar they oughter, 
'stead o' waitin' till they git past th' Injun dangers?** 
demanded Hank with some feeling. 

"Does not thee senor know?" chuckled Pedro. **Eet 
ees not for protec' thee car-ravan that they meet eet. 
Eet ees that no man may leave thee tr-rail an' smuggle 
hees goods past thee customs. For what does Manuel 
Armijo care for protec' thee traders? Eef he deed, 
would he not meet them at thee Arkansas ? Eet ees only 
for thee customs that he sends thee soldats. To get away 
fr-rom theese we mus' tak thee other tr-rail befo' eet 
ees too late." 

" That's all right f er other years," growled Tom ; " but 
if they ain't goin' ter meet us this time we kin stick ter 
th' trail an' leave it a lot closer ter Santer Fe." 

Pedro was doing his best to play safe from all angles. 
If the troops tried to take Tom Boyd from the caravan, 
or show that he was a prisoner, a great deal of trouble 
might come out of it, for these Americans were devils 
for sticking together. If that fear were groundless, then 
Tom Boyd and his trapper friends, on sight of the troops, 
might cut and run ; and if forced to stand and fight they 
could be counted on to give a good account of themselves 
against the poorer arms of their Mexican enemies; and 
somewhere in the hills he thought there were Texans 
and he knew them well enough to know that they would 
only be too glad to take a hand in any fight against Mex- 
icans if they learned of it in time. At first he had been 
content to get Tom Boyd to the Upper Spring or to Cold 
Spring, only a few miles farther on, and there turn his 
responsibility over to the commander of the troops. If 
he could get them to slip away from their friends and 



THE VALLEY OF THE CIMARRON 237 

be captured out of sight and hearing of the caravan it 
would suit him much better; and if he could coax them 
to take their goods with them, he and his friends could 
divide the spoils and slip the plunder past the customs 
ofiEicers. The caravan was now within fifty miles of Cold 
Spring and he must make up his mind and act quickly. 

" Eet ees then you weesh to pay thee char-rges ? " the 
Mexican asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"No!" growled Hank. "They air a robbery, plain 
an' simple." 

" No ! " said Tom, who was giving but little thought 
to the customs duties, but a great deal to his own per- 
sonal freedom. He did not want to meet any kind of 
officers, customs or otherwise. He would have jumped 
at a secret trail into the settlements had he not known 
so much about Pedro. "At th' same time I ain't han- 
kerin' fer ter leave th' caravan so soon. We're nigh 
three hundred miles from Sante Fe, an' thar ain't no way 
we kin go that'll cut off ten miles. This wagon road 
runs nigh as straight as th' crow flies. What about grass 
fer th' mules, an' water ? " 

" Ah," breathed Pedro. " We weel not go to Santa Fe, 
seiior ; we go near Taos, less than two hundred mile away 
from here. Along thee Ocate Cr-reek I haf fr-riends who 
know ver' well thee mountains. They weel tak us over 
them. How can thee senores sell their goods onless by 
ways that ar-re made? Weeth us we haf men that know 
that tr-rail. We weel send one befor-re to thee Ocate, 
an' follow heem fast." 

Tom studied the fire for a few moments and then 
looked up at his guest. "We want ter think this over, 
Pedro," he said. " You figger what per cent o' th' cus- 



238 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

toms savings you want fer yer share, an* we'll decide 
tomorrow night. Hank, here, wants ter go ter Bent's 
an' reckons we kin git a good price thar fer our goods. 
Let you know then. Good night." 

After Pedro had painted the picture of the innocent- 
looking loads of faggots and sheepskins, hay and pro- 
duce, towering over the backs of the nearly hidden pack 
mules as they toiled through the canon and over the rough 
trail leading from the Valley of Taos into Santa Fe, their 
loads passing the customs house without drawing even 
a careless glance and then, by many turnings, safely 
arriving at various destinations with their smuggled 
goods; after he had described the care and foresight of 
his friends and their trustworthiness, and made many 
knowing bows and grimaces, he smilingly departed and 
left the partners to themselves. 

Knowing that they were being watched they idled 
before the fire, careless now of their store of wood, of 
which plenty was at hand, and talked at random; but 
through the droning of their careless words many times 
there could be heard the name "Bent's Fort," which 
Hank mentioned with affectionate inflections. It seemed 
that he very strongly preferred to go to that great trading 
post and rendezvous of hunters and trappers, where old 
friends would be met and new ones made. Tom held out 
for Santa Fe, but did not show much enthusiasm. Finally 
they rolled up in their blankets, feet toward the fire and 
heads close together and simulated sleep. Half an hour 
later they were holding a whispered conversation which 
was pitched so low they barely could hear each other. 



CHAPTER XV 



TEXAN SCOUTS 



THE day broke clear and the usual excitement 
and bustle of the camp was increased by the 
eager activities of the two hunting parties. After 
the morning meal the animals were driven some dis- 
tance from the camp and the herd guards began their 
day's vigil. Tom placed the outposts and returned 
to report to the captain, and then added that he had 
something of a very confidential nature to tell him, 
but did not want to be seen talking too long with 
him. 

Woodson reflected a moment. "All right; I'll come 
after ye in a few minutes an' ask ye ter go huntin' 
with me. 'Twon't be onusual if we ketch th' fever, 
too." 

Tom nodded and went over to Cooper's wagons 
to pay his morning's respects, and to his chagrin 
found that Patience had gone for a short ride with 
Doctor Whiting and his friends. 

"Sorry to miss her, Uncle Joe," he said. "Things 
are going to happen fast for me from now on. I 
may leave the caravan tonight. About two days' more 
travel and we'll be south of Bent's. Hank and I don't 
want to lose our merchandise, we can't take it with 
us, and we need to turn it into money. How much 
can you carry from here on?" 

239 



240 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

Uncle Joe scratched his head. "The two big 
wagons can take five hundred-weight more apiece, 
and this wagon can stand near eight hundred, seein' 
that it ain't carryin' much more than our personal 
belongings. Don't worry, Tom; if I can't handle it 
all, Alonzo and Enoch can take th' balance. Them 
greasers showing their cards?" 

"It's like this: According to those Texans we 
met, no troops are going to meet us this trip. Their 
advance guard got thrashed and Armijo and the main 
body turned tail at Cold Spring and fled back to 
Santa Fe. I could go with the caravan miles farther 
and probably be safe; but if Pedro gets a messenger 
away secretly there is no telling what may happen. 
If I stay with the caravan and put up a fight it might 
end in embroiling a lot of the bo37-s and certainly 
would make trouble for them if the train pushed on 
to Santa Fe, and it's got to push on. I won't sur- 
render meekly. So, you see, I'll have to strike out." 

Uncle Joe nodded. " If it wasn't for Patience, and 
my brother in Santa Fe, I'd strike out with you. 
Goin' to Bent's?" 

"Bent's nothing!" retorted Tom. "I'm going to 
Santa Fe, but I'm going a way of my own." 

"It's suicide, Tom," warned his friend. "Better 
let me take in your stuff, an' meet us here on the 
way back. Patience won't spoil; an' when she learns 
how much you're wanted by Armijo she'll worry her- 
self sick if she knows you are in th' city. Don't you 
doit!" 

Tom scowled at a break in the hills and in his 
mind's eye he could see her riding gaily with his 



TEXAN SCOUTS 241 

tenderfoot rivals. ** Reckon she won't fall away," he 
growled. "Anyhow, there's no telling; an' there's no 
reason why she should know anything. I told her 
I was goin' to Santa Fe, an' I'm going ! " 

Uncle Joe was about to retort but thought better 
of it and smiled instead. " Oh, these jealous lovers !'* 
he chuckled. "Blind as bats! Who do you know 
there, in case I want to get word to you?" 

Tom swiftly named three men and told where they 
could be found, his companion nodding sharply at the 
mention of two of them. 

"Good!" exclaimed the trader. "Throw your 
packs into my wagons an' I'll see to stowin' 'em." 

"No," replied Tom. "That's got to be done when 
th* camp's asleep. I'm supposed to be takin' 'em with 
me," 

" But these Mexicans'll trail you, an' get you when 
you're asleep," objected Uncle Joe. 

Tom laughed and shook his head, and turned to 
face Woodson, who was walking toward them. "Th* 
captain an' I am goin' huntin'. See you later." 

"Git yer hoss, Boyd," called the captain. "I'm. 
goin' fer mine now. How air ye, Mr. Cooper?" 

" Never felt better in my life, captain. We all owe 
you a vote of thanks, an' I'll see that you get it." 

" Thar ain't a man livin' as kin git a vote o' thanks 
fer me out o' this caravan," laughed Woodson, his 
eyes twinkling. " But I ain't got no call ter kick : I 
ain't had nigh th' trouble I figgered on. Jest th' same, 
I'll be glad when we meet up with th' greaser troops 
at Cold Spring. I aim to leave ye thar an' go on ahead 
an' fix things in th' city." 



242 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Uncle Joe caught himself in time. "That's where 
we bust up?" 

Woodson nodded. "Thar ain't no organization 
from thar in. Don't need it, with th' sojers. All us 
proprietors that ain't got reg'lar connections in th' 
city will be leavin' from Cold Spring on." 

"Any danger from th' Injuns, leavin' that way? " 

"Oh, we slip out at night," answered Woodson. 
"Thar ain't much danger from any big bands. Got 
ter do it; customs officers air like axles; they work 
better arter they air greased. I aim ter leave two 
waggins behind th' noon arter we git to th* Upper 
Spring, an' save five hundred apiece on *em. Th* 
other six kin make it from thar with th' extry loads, 
an' th' extry animals to help pull 'em." He looked 
toward the wagons of Alonzo and Enoch, where Tom 
had tarried on his way back. "Thar's a fine, up- 
standin' young man; I've had my eye on him ever 
since we left th' Grove." 

"He is; an' anythin' he tells you is gospel," said 
Uncle Joe. 

They saw the two traders waving their arms and 
soon Tom hurried up. 

"Alonzo an' Enoch would like to go with us, only 
thar bosses air with th' herd," he said. 

" Then we'll go afoot," declared Woodson. "I ain't 
hankerin' so much fer a hunt as I air ter git away 
from these danged waggins fer a spell. I'm sick o' 
th' sight o' 'em. Better come along, Mr. Cooper." 

"That depends on how fur yer goin'; this young 
scamp will walk me off my feet." 

" Oh, jest aways around th' hills; dassn't go too fur. 



TEXAN SCOUTS 2^ 

on account of airy Injuns that may be hangin' 'round/* 

In a few moments the little group had left the 
encampment behind and out of sight and Woodson, 
waving the others ahead, fell back to Tom's side. 

"Hyar we air, with nobody ter listen. What ye 
want ter tell me?" 

To the captain's growing astonishment Tom rapidly 
sketched his conversation with the two Texans, his 
affair with the despotic New Mexican governor and 
what it now meant to him. Then he told of his 
determination to leave the caravan some night soon, 
perhaps on this night. 

"Wall, dang my eyes!" exclaimed Woodson at 
the conclusion of the narrative. " Good fer them 
Texans! Young man, which hand did ye hit him 
with? That un? Wall, I'll jest shake it, fer luck." 
He thought a moment. "Ye air lucky, Boyd; north 
o' here, acrost th' headwaters o' this river, an' a couple 
more streams, which might be dry now, ye'll hit th* 
Picketwire, that's alius wet. If ye find th' little cricks 
dry, head more westward an' ye'll strike th' Picket- 
wire quicker. It'll take ye nigh inter sight o' Bent's; 
an' thar ain't no finer men walkin' than William^an' 
Charles Bent. Hate ter lose ye, Boyd; but thar ain't 
no two ways 'bout it; ye got ter go, or get skinned 
alive." 

"I'm not goin' ter Bent's, captain," said Tom 
quietly. " I'll be in Santa Fe soon after you git thar. 
Hank knows them mountains like you know this trail. 
When I'm missed if ye'll throw 'em off my track I'll 
not fergit it." He smiled grimly. "If I war goin* 
ter Bent's they could foller, an' be damned to 'cm. 



4844 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

I'd like nothin* better than have 'em chase us thrcJugh 
this kind o' country." 

Woodson chuckled and then grew thoughtful. 
"Boyd, them Texans air goin' ter make trouble fer 
us, shore as shootin'. It'll be bad fer you, fer every 
American in these settlements is goin* ter be watched 
purty clost. Better go ter Bent's." 

"Nope; Hank an' me air headin' fer Turley's, up 
on Arroyo Hondo. Hank knows him well. Hyar 
come th' others. I've told you an' Cooper, an' that's 
enough. You fellers ain't turnin' back so soon, air 
ye ?" he called. "Ye don't call this a hunt? Whar's 
yer meat?" 

" Whar's yourn ? " countered Alonzo, grinning. " I 
ate so many berries I got cramps." 

" Us, too," laughed Uncle Joe. " My feet air tender, 
ridin' so long. We're goin' back." 

" Might as well jine ye, then," said Woodson. 
^'Comin', Boyd?" 

" Not fer awhile," answered Tom, pushing on. 

He made his way along the lower levels, reveling 
in the solitude and the surroundings, and his keen 
eyes missed nothing. A mile from camp he suddenly 
stopped and carefully parted the thick berry bushes. 
In the soft soil were the prints of many horses, most 
of them shod. Cautiously he followed the tracks and 
in a few moments came to the edge of a small, heavily 
grassed clearing, so well hidden by the brush and the 
thick growth of the trees along the encircling, steep- 
faced hills that its presence hardly would be suspected. 
Closely cropped circles, each centered by the hole 
made by a picket pin, told him the story; and when 



TEXAN SCOUTS 245 

he had located the sand-covered site of the fire, whose 
ashes and sticks carefully had been removed, an 
imprint in the soft clay brought a smile to his face. 

"Following us close," he muttered. "Lord help 
any Mexicans that wander away from the wagons. 
Nearer twenty than what they said." He slipped 
along the edge of the pasture and found where the 
party had left the little ravine. Following the trail 
he soon came to another matted growth of under- 
brush, and then he heard the barely audible stamp of 
a horse. Creeping forward he wormed his way 
through the greener brush and finally peered through 
an opening among the stems and branches. A dozen 
Texans wero lolling on the floor of the ravine, and 
he knew that the others were doing sentry duty. 

A shadow passed him and he froze, and then re- 
laxed as Burch came into sight. It was needful that 
he make no mistake in how he made his presence 
known, for a careless hail might draw a volley. 

Burch passed him treading softly and when the 
man's back was turned to him Tom called out in a 
low voice. "Burch! Don't shoot!" 

"Boyd!" exclaimed the sentry. "Cussed if ye 
ain't a good un, gittin' whar ye air an' me not knowin* 
it. What ye doin' hyar ? " 

" Scoutin' fer Injuns. Glad ter see ye." 

Burch stepped to the edge of the ravine. " Friend 
o' mine comin' down, name o' Boyd." He turned. 
" Go down an' meet th' boys; thar honin' fer to shake 
han's with th' kiyote that hit Armijo. Be with ye 
soon." 

Tom descended and shook hands with the smihng 



246 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

Texans and in a few moments was at home in the 
camp. He noticed that they all had the Colt re- 
volving* rifles which his friend Jarvis, back in St. 
Louis, had condemned. Each man wore two pistols 
of the same make, and most of them carried heavy- 
skinning knives inside their boot legs. 

" I heard tell them rifles warn't o' much account," 
he observed. 

" Wall, they ain't as good as they might be," con- 
fessed a lanky Texan, "if thar used careless an' git 
too hot. A Hawken will out-shoot 'em; but we 
mostly fight on hossback, an' like ter git purty clost. 
Take them greasers we run inter; we didn't pull trig- 
ger till we war a hundred paces away, an' by th' time 
we'd emptied th' rifles an' pulled pistols th' danged 
fight war over. Th' Injuns don't like 'em worth a 
cuss. That's a right smart rifle ye got thar, friend." 

Tom passed it around and it was duly admired. 
Then the guard was changed and Burch and Flint 
appeared. 

" You fellers air stickin' purty clost ter us," observed 
Tom. 

" But not as clost as th' greasers air," laughed 
Flint. "Danged if we kin ketch one o' *em away 
from th' waggins." 

"That's jest as well," replied Tom. "More'n half 
of 'em hate Armijo as much as we do. If ye pick 'em 
ofT careless yer bound ter make mistakes. Thar's 
one gang that's fer him strong, an' 'twon't be long 
before they split from th' others an' stand out so thar 
won't be no mistakin' 'em. They'll be trailin' me an' 
Hank in a bunch. We're aimin' ter sHp away an' head 



TEXAN SCOUTS 247 

fer Bent's some place between hyar an' the Upper 
Spring." 

"Thought ye was goin' ter Santa Fe," said Burch 
in surprise. "If yer goin' ter Bent's ye should 'a' 
left th' train at th' Crossin'." 

"I'm goin' ter Santa Fe," replied Tom, "but thar's 
some folks that air anxious ter see me. If they larn 
I'm thar I'll likely be stood ag'in a wall; an' Armijo'U 
add my ears ter his c'llection. We got ter throw 'em 
oK our trail." He smiled grimly around the circle. 
" I don't want Salezar ter larn I'm in this part o' the 
country, fer I want ter git my paws on him." 

At the mention of that name the eyes of the leader 
flamed with flickering fires and he leaned slightly 
forward, unable to conceal his eagerness. " Whar ye 
aimin* ter leave th' caravan, friend?" he asked. 

"Don't know jest yet," answered Tom, "but I 
know th' way we'll head. Ye know whar th' waggin 
road crossed McNees Crick? Wall, plumb north o' 
that a crick empties inter th' Cimarron. Thar's a 
dry gully jines th' crick at its mouth, makin' a V. 
Th' gully war made by th' buffalers wearin' away th' 
top soil, which let the rains cut inter th' sand beneath 
an' wash it away. That buffaler trail is th' biggest 
ye ever saw, an' it's worn down so deep that every 
rain pours a stream along it. It's cut a gully back 
fer a hundred paces to whar th' bu£faler wallers have 
turned a little pasture inter a swamp when it rains, 
Clost to its upper end is a hill, whar my partner built 
a cache about ten years back. He says th' pit could 
be easy seen when he war thar last." 

"We're aimin' ter head fer Bent's as soon as th* 



248 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

caravan gits too fur along," said the leader, who not 
long since had returned from the lepers' hospital, used 
as a prison in his case, in Mexico City, His bitterness 
had seared him to the soul and Tom thought it 
strange that he so easily would forego the desire for 
revenge, the flames of which intermittently flickered 
in his eyes. " I've been wonderin' about th' best an* 
straightest way to Bent's, with water on it. Yer 
pardner says that's th' best trail?" 

"Yes," replied Tom. "An' it's th' best fer us in 
another way. Thar's springs in th' river bed up thar 
an' fer near a mile th' river's alius wet. Ye see, we. 
got ter throw th' greasers off our trail, which will be 
too danged plain, with two bosses an' eight mules. 
I'd swap th' eight mules fer two bosses, seein' as how 
we're fixed, but I dassn't make th* play, fer everybody 
in th' caravan would larn of it. Come ter think of it, 
thar'll be more bosses an' mules; couple o' friends air 
goin' with us. We change our packs tonight, buildin* 
'em up with buffaler rugs we traded th' Comanches 
fer, in case we part with our goods an' leave th* 
caravan afterward. Th' two extra bosses would be 
enough ter carry our grub an' supplies, an' they'd let 
us make better time than th' mules would." 

The Texans nodded and one of them glanced at 
his leader while he spoke to Tom. " Reckon if ye got 
them mules ter Bent's ye could sell 'em, or trade 'em 
fer a couple o' bosses?" He hesitated and then said: 
"We're runnin' powerful short o' powder an' lead.'* 

"Th' caravan bein' so clost ter Santa Fe, it's got 
more o' both than it needs," replied Tom. "If we 
kin git ye some we'll leave it behind th' hill at that oldi 



TEXAN SCOUTS 249 

cache o' Hanks. If ye go that way, look fer it." He 
grinned. " Hank an' me air aimin' ter carry some in 
one of th* buffaler rug packs. Thar's two fifty-pound 
pigs o' lead fastened to each o' th' cannon carriages, 
an' they won't have no use fer more than one ter each 
gun. 

"Wish I war goin' with ye," growled the Texan 
leader, his eyes flaming again. " I'm hankerin' ter git 
Salezar's ears, fer I saw th' polecat c'llect Texan ears 
on th' road from San Miguel ter 'Paso, ter keep th' 
tally o' his prisoners straight. He strung 'em on a 
wire, d — n him!" His face became livid with pas- 
sion, and murder raised its grisly visage in his eyes. 

Tom paled. "Yes," he said. "He took th' ears 
o' a friend o' mine that war sick an' weak w^ith hunger 
an' cold an' exhaustion, an' couldn't keep up. He 
had traded most o' his clothes fer short rides on th' 
mules o' th' guards. They killed him near Valencia, 
an' his ears war took ter account fer him." 

" Valencia ! " muttered the leader, pacing back and 
forth like a panther, " I remember him ! Oh, 
Christ ! " he cried, and then got hold of himself. 
" Boyd, I'd give everythin' I own ter git my ban's 
on that Salezar; an' go ter hell with a smile on my 
face ! " Then he stiffened and reached convulsively 
toward his holster, for the unmistakable twang of a 
bowstring sounded from the bushes above his head. 
The Texans leaped to their arms, but Tom stopped 
them with a cry. 

"Wait, boys! That's Hank — my pardner!" He 
looked up toward the bushes. "Ye damned fool! 
Show yerself ! " 



250 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

" Didn't hardly know if 'twar safe," chuckled Hank, 
his head slowly arising above the tangle of leaves 
and vines, a dozen paces from the place where the 
bowstring had twanged. 

"Whar's that huntin' party ye war nursin'?'* 
quickly demanded Tom. 

"Took 'em 'round on t'other side o' th' camp, ast 
'em ter hold my hoss, an' left 'em thar," chuckled 
the plainsman, making his way down the hillside with 
caution and silence that had become habitual. 

"Boys," said Tom, "hyar's a 'dopted son o' th* 
Piegan tribe o' th' Blackfeet, name o' Hank Marshall, 
an' he's more Injun than any brave in th' tribe. Any- 
how, I'd ruther have a Injun on my trail than him. 
He's goin' with me ter Santa Fe; an' Salezar's shore 
goin' ter need all his friends ! " 

"Put her thar!" said the Texan leader. "If yer 
lookin' fer help I'll jine ye, cussed if I won't!" 

"Don't want no help that's strange ter Taos an* 
Santer Fe," laughed Hank. "We got two Green 
River boys, an' don't need no more ; don't hardly need 
them, but Zeb wants his ha'r, an' I wants his ears, 
ears bein' his pet joke." He looked at the leader. 
"You boys run inter some 'Rapahoes? Thar's nigh 
onter a dozen projectin' 'round these hills. Stumbled 
acrost thar camp a-ways back. If I'd had one o' 
them newfangled rifles ye got so many of, danged 
if I wouldn't 'a' trailed 'em." He grinned expan- 
sively. "They cleaned out a cache o' mine, three year 
back, up on Big Sandy Crick, an' I ain't paid 'em fer 
it yit." 

"We shore do need powder an' lead," said the 



TEXAN SCOUTS 2^ 

leader thoughtfully. He turned to one of his men. 
**Sam, reckon we kin part with pore Williams' rifle?" 

" Seein' as we got three more extrys, reckon we 
kin," answered Sam. " It oughter be worth a keg o' 
powder an' a couple o' pigs o' lead." He walked over 
to where their supplies were piled and returned with 
a heavy Colt repeating rifle. " Hyar, Hank," he said, 
handing it to the hunter. "Be keerful ter keep th' 
powder from spillin' down 'round th' cap end; an' 
don't empty her too fast after th' first few shots. 
Hyar's th' mould, an' some caps. Git a Injun ter pay 
fer pore Williams. She's full loaded, so look out." 

The rifle was sheathed in a saddle scabbard and 
Hank took it, looked from it to his own, weighing 
them both. "Heavy as all git out," he remarked. 
**Wall, 'twon't weigh nothin' when it's slung ter a 
saddle. Might be handy purty soon. Much obliged, 
friends. How we goin' ter git th' powder an' lead 
ter ye?" 

" I've arranged fer that," said Tom, picking up his 
rifle. "Wall, good luck, boys. Remember us at 
Bent's if ye git thar." 

"Reckon it's you boys that need th' good luck," 
grimly replied the leader. He watched the two visi- 
tors until they were lost to sight in the brush and 
then turned to his men, his eyes flaming again. 
"Break camp, boys; we're crossin' th' river close by, 
ter circle back ag'in farther up." 

Tom and Hank, moving silently back toward the 
encampment, had covered about half of the distance 
when they heard a sudden burst of shots, yells, and 
the thunder of hoofs. Running up the side of a little 



252 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

hill they peered over the top and flung themselves 
down. Less than two hundred paces away a little 
party of tenderfeet, with Patience Cooper in the 
center, fought frightened horses as a band of nearly a 
dozen Indians came charging straight for them across 
the little clearing. As they looked one of the tender- 
feet's horse went down, spilling its rider, and throw- 
ing the group into still greater confusion. 

"'Rapahoes!" snorted Hank, and his rifle spoke. 
" One fer my cache ! " 

The double-barreled rifle of his companion roared 
twice and another warrior plunged from his horse, 
while the third fought madly to keep his seat, but his 
weakening grasp loosened and he rolled over and 
over across the grass. Tom dropped the empty rifle 
and started to rise, his hand leaping to the Colt re- 
volver at his belt; but Hank, who had slipped the 
newly-acquired repeating rifle from its sheath, poked 
it into his friend's hand and fell to re-loading his 
Hawken. " She's yore gal. Give 'em hell ! " he 
grunted. 

The deadly and unexpected attack from the little 
hilltop created a diversion which for the moment 
turned the thoughts of the savages from the tender- 
feet in the open, and the charging line split to pass 
the forlorn group and give its full attention to the 
real menace; but as it hesitated the heavy, . regular 
crashes of the revolving rifle rolled from the hill, its 
lead always selecting the warrior nearest to the panic- 
stricken group. Here an Indian went down, there a 
horse; and with the cry " Tejanos!" the rest of the 
savage band wheeled and dashed over the route the}^ 



TEXAN SCOUTS 253 

had come. The last warrior to reach the edge of 
the pasture was for one instant silhouetted against the 
sky on the edge of a ravine, and at that moment 
Hank's rifle cracked. Throwing both arms up over 
his head, he turned a backward flip from the horse 
and sprawled inertly in a currant bush. Re-loading 
as quickly as they could while on the run the two 
plainsmen hastened to the group, and Tom, pulHng 
Dr. Whiting from his horse, was within an inch 
of strangling him when Patience's hands on his wrists 
checked him. 

" Six trusty knights ! " sneered the enraged plains- 
man, hurling the doctor from him. " I said you were 
six flashes. Ask a woman to go riding with you in a 
country as broken as this, and as over-run with 
Indians !" He took a step forward, seething with 
rage, and ran his eyes over the speechless tenderfeet. 
"Git back to camp, all of you! Miss Cooper goes 
with us ! " Poised, tense, and enraged he watched 
them go and did not know that Hank had run to the 
little hilltop for the double-barreled rifle until the old 
hunter returned with it, loaded its two barrels, capped 
them and threw the weapon under his arm. At that 
moment a burst of firing sounded from the north and 
Hank cocked his head. 

"Sounds like them Colt rifles," he remarked, and 
then kicked himself figuratively, for at his words, his 
two companions, almost in each other's arms, started, 
stiffened, and stepped apart. Seeing that the damage 
already was done. Hank placidly continued. "Is thar 
another passel o' Texans loose 'round hyar, or has 
our friends hit th' trail already?" 



254 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

"Yes," said Tom, quivering like a leaf. 

Patience closed her eyes. "Yes," she sighed. 

Hank scratched his head and frowned, very much 
puzzled. "Shucks! thar ain't no doubt 'bout it» 
a-tall. Course it is — an' I'm a danged old fool!" 

"You're one of the four best men I ever knew," 
said Patience, resting her hand on his arm. 

Hank felt of the disgraceful, stubby beard on his 
face, scowled at his blackened hands, and furtively 
brushed at a bloodstain on his shirt. Then he wheeled 
abruptly and strode off to look over the victims of 
the little affray. When he turned again he saw 
Patience and Tom going toward camp. Patience on 
her horse and Tom striding at her side. Fixing the 
strap to his own rifle he slung the weapon over his 
shoulder and, with the double-barreled weapon bal- 
anced expertly in his hands, slowly followed after to 
act as a badly needed protector to them both. 

Back in camp Tom handed Patience into her uncle's 
care, looked at her in a way she would remember to 
the end of her days, and hastened on to report to the 
captain of the caravan. When he reached Woodson 
he found Hank there before him, laughingly recount- 
ing the fight. As Tom came up Hank stepped back 
and slipped away, heading straight for the excited 
group of tenderfeet at the other end of the encamp- 
ment, and roughly pushed in among them. 

" Look hyar, ye sick pups," he blurted. " My pard- 
ner dassn't thrash any o' ye, or he'll mebby lose his 
gal. Anybody hyar wantin' ter take advantage o' an 
old man ? Huh ! Then open yer dumb ears ter this : 
If I ketch airy one o* ye hangin* 'round Cooper's 



TEXAN SCOUTS 255 

waggins, or even sayin' *how-de-do' to that gal, I'll 
git ye if I has ter chase ye all the way back ter 
Missoury ! " He spat at the doctor's feet, turned his 
back and rambled over to where his trade goods were 
piled. On the way he met Zeb, who scowled at him. 

Hank pulled some black mops out of his pocket, 
showed them, and shoved them back again. 

" Hell ! " said Zeb, enviously. " Whar ye git 'em ? '* 

"Found one on a currant bush," chuckled Hank, 
and went on again. 

Zeb placed his fists on his hips and scowled in 
earnest. " I didn't know what that shootin' war, with 
all th' hunters runnin' 'round. Dang him ! He alius 
did have more luck ner brains ! " 

Up at the captain's wagon Woodson nodded as his 
companion finished speaking. " I reckon ye kin have 
'most anythin' in this hyar camp, Boyd. Two bars o' 
lead off'n th' cannon carriages, an' a keg o' powder? 
Shore, I'll put th' powder in Cooper's little waggin, 
an' ye kin help yerself ter th' lead when ye j^it th' 
time." 



CHAPTER XVI 

THE PASSING OP PEDRO 

AFTER supper that night Hank and Tom sat 
around their fire and soortnvere joined by Pedro, 
who paid them effusive compHments about their defeat 
of the Arapahoes. They squirmed under his heavy 
"flattery and finally, in desperation, spoke of the secret 
trail to Taos. His face beamed in the firelight and 
he leaned eagerly forward. 

"You have decide?" he asked. 

" Yes," answered Tom. " Whar we goin' ter meet, 
•-and what time?" 

"Ah?" breathed Pedro. "To that have I geeve 
mucho thought. Eet should be ear-rly, so we be far 
:away by thee coming of thee sun. Ees eet not so?" 

" Naw," growled Hank. " Folks air not sleepin' 
•sound enough then. Nobody's goin' ter foller us. 
Thar'll be lots o' 'em leavin' camp at night from now 
■on, tryin' ter beat each other ter th' customs fellers. 
Two hours afore dawn is time enough. But we got 
lots o' time ter figger that; we won't be ter th' Upper 
:Spring fer two more days. Time enough then ter 
talk about it." 

"But, eet ees tonight!" exclaimed Pedro. *'Madre 
de Dios! You teenk I mean near thee Upper 
:Spreeng? No! No!" 

" Mebby not; but that's whar we mean," said Tom. 
256 



THE PASSING OF PEDRO 2^7 

"Think we're goin' pokin' along through this Injun 
country fer two nights an' a day by ourselves? Th* 
caravan gits ter Wilier Bar tomorrow night, an' 
camps at th' Upper Spring, or Cold Spring, th' next 
night. That puts us near fifty miles further on in 
th* protection of th' caravan." 

"No! No!" argued Pedro in despair. "Eet ees 
too miicho reesk!" 

"Of what?" demanded Tom, in surprise. 

" Eet may be that Armijo send soldats to meet thee 
tr-rain, lak other times. Sefiores, eet mus' be tonight! 
Tonight eet mus' be ! " He looked around suddenly. 
"But where ar-re thee cargas, thee packs? I do not 
see them. What ees eet you do?" 

"We put 'em outside th' corral," chuckled Tom 
knowingly, " so folks will git used ter seeing 'em than 
Tomorrow night we'll do th' same, an' do it ag'in at 
th' Upper Spring. Somebody shore would see us if 
we had ter pack 'em here an' sneak 'em through th* 
camp. Ye should tell yer friends ter put thar packs 
outside th' waggins, too. How we goin' ter git 
through th' guards around th' camp?" 

" By my fr-riends," answered Pedro. " But eet may 
be too late at Cold Spreeng!" he expostulated. "Eef 
thee soldats ar-re there — ah, senores! Eet ees ver* 
bad. Cold Spreeng!" 

" We ain't botherin' 'bout that," said Tom reassur- 
ingly. "Hank kin scout on ahead o' us, an' if thaf 
camped up thar we kin drop out o' th' train behind 
any bend on th' way, an' take ter th' brush." 

Pedro begged and pleaded, but to no avail. He 
still was arguing when his two companions rolled up 



258 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

in their blankets and settled down to go to sleep. 
Sadly he walked away, hiding his anger until well 
out of their sight, and then hastened to his own fire 
and sent three of his compatriots to watch the sleep- 
ing pair. They had their watch for nothing, and 
while they doggedly kept their eyes on the two plains- 
men. Uncle Joe and his two wagoners were busy on 
the other side of the camp, stowing merchandise in 
the wagons and making false packs. This they found 
easy to do without calHng upon many buffalo rugs, 
for the goods had been packed in light boxes, over 
which had been thrown skins and canvas. By taking 
out the contents of the boxes and putting the con- 
tainers back into their original wrappings the shapes 
of the packs did not change. The pigs of lead, a keg 
of powder and bundles of stones were wrapped in 
pieces of old skins to give weight to the packs to 
keep them from flopping at every step of the mules. 
They did not start to work until Zeb Houghton and 
Jim Ogden returned from their tour of guard duty and 
took up another kind of guard duty near the wagons ; 
and long before daylight awakened the encampment 
the work was done and no one the wiser. Alonzo 
Webb and Enoch Birdsall had taken care of the packs 
belonging to Ogden and Houghton and everything 
was in shape for quick action. 

On the march again after an early breakfast the 
caravan plodded along the trail to reach Willow Bar 
in good time for the next night camp. As the wag- 
ons rolled along the road following the course of 
the Cimarron, Uncle Joe and Patience dropped back 
to the rear guard, where Hank Marshall scowled at 



THE PASSING OF PEDRO 259 

Jim Ogden, but refrained from open hostilities. Hank 
was glad to see them and entertained them mile after 
mile with accounts of his life and experiences in the 
great West. At times his imagination set a hard 
pace for his vocabulary, but the latter managed to 
keep up. The men exchanged tobacco off and on 
and no one gave a second thought to what they were 
doing. When Uncle Joe and Patience rode forward 
again as the train drew near to the noon camping 
place, Uncle Joe was poorer and Hghter by the loss 
of a goodly sum in minted gold, while Hank was 
richer and heavier. The balance was obtainable in 
Santa Fe in the warehouse of a mutual friend. 

The wagons hardly had left the noon camp when 
a heavy rain storm burst upon them, with a blast of 
cold air that quickly turned the rain into driving 
sheets of hail. These storms were common along the 
Cimarron and at times raged for two or three days. 
The animals became frantic with fear and pain, and 
the train was a scene of great confusion from one 
end to the other. Alternate downpours of rain, sleet, 
and heavy hailstones continued all the rest of the day 
and the encampment at Willow Bar was one of sullen- 
ness and discontent. The wind rose during the early 
part of the night and sent the rain driving into the 
wagons through every crack and crevice, and the 
flapping and slapping and booming of wagon covers,, 
added to the fury of the wind and the swish of the 
downpour, filled the night with a tumult of noise. 
The guards around the camp either crawled under 
skins or crept back to their wagons, not able to see 
three feet in the blackness. 



£6o "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

Tom and Hank had taken refuge under a great 
Pittsburg wagon owned by Haviland and had fastened 
buffalo rugs to its sides to shed some of the rain. As 
soon as darkness set in and Pedro's spies found that 
they could not see an arm's length from them and 
were drenched and half frozen by the steady down- 
pour, they fled from their posts and sought refuge 
from the storm. It took very Httle to convince them 
that the men they were to watch would stay where 
they were until dawn or later, and they did not let 
Pedro know of their deflection. 

" Nine, ten, eleven," muttered the first of two men 
leading packmules as they felt their way from wagon 
to wagon. "This oughter be Haviland's, Zeb. Yep, 
I kin feel thar skin walls." He bent down and raised 
the lower edge of a skin. " Hank ! Tom ! " 

"All right, Jim," came the low answer, and the two 
partners, bundled in skins until they looked like noth- 
ing human, crawled from their snug shelter and stood 
up, their one and constant thought being for the 
covers of the hammers of their heavy rifles. Hank 
pushed ahead and the night swallowed up the little 
party. 

Uncle Joe raised himself on one elbow and peered 
through a small opening in the canvas at the rear end 
of his first huge wagon, and got a faceful of cold rain 
before he could close the opening again. He had 
done this a dozen times since dark. Muttering sleep- 
ily he rolled up in his blankets and rugs and dozed 
again, squirming down into the warm bed as vague 
thoughts sped through his mind of what his friends 
were going to face. 



THE PASSING OF PEDRO 261 

Suddenly the soft whinny of a horse sounded 
squarely under him, and he bounced from the blankets 
and crept to a crack where the canvas was nailed to 
the tailboard of the wagon. "Hello!" he called. 
"Hello!" 

A low voice answered him and he shivered as a 
trickle of cold rain rolled down his face. "Thought 
you had given it up till tomorrow night. This is a 
hell of a night, boys, to go wandering off from the 
camp. Sure you won't get lost among th' hills?" 
He chuckled at the reply and shivered again. " Sure 
I'll tell her Bent's. Yes. No, she won't. What? 
Look here, young man; she's plumb cured of tender- 
feet. Yes, I remember everything. All right; good 
luck, boys. God knows you'll need it ! " He listened 
for a moment, heard no sounds of movement, and 
called again. "What's th' matter?" There came no 
answer and he crept back to his blankets, his teeth 
chattering, and lay awake the rest of the night, 
worrying. 

Between the wagons and the road the little pack- 
train waited, kept together by soft bird calls instead 
of by sight. A plaintive, disheartened snipe whistled 
close by and was answered in kind. Hank almost 
bumped into Ogden before he saw him. They both 
looked like drowned rats, the water slipping from 
the buffalo hair and pouring from them in little rills. 

"Ain't a guard in sight, or ruther feelin', fifty feet 
each side o' th' road," Hank reported. "Bet every 
blasted one o' 'em is back in camp. Mules all tied 
together? Everybody hyar? All right. Off we go." 

All night long the little atejo slopped down the 



262 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

streaming road, kept to it by the uncanny instinct 
and the oft repeated cheeping and twittering of the 
adopted son of the Blackfeet, who could perfectly 
imitate any night bird he ever had heard; and he had 
heard them all. Horses whinnied, mules brayed, 
wolves and coyotes howled, foxes squalled, chip- 
munks scolded, squirrels chattered and several other 
animals performed solos in the dark at the head of 
the little pack train, to be answered from the rear. 
Anyone unfortunate enough to be camped at the edge 
of the trail would have thought himself surrounded 
by a menagerie. 

With the first sullen sign of dawn Tom pushed on 
ahead, reconnoitered the Upper Spring, found it de- 
serted and went on, riding some hundreds of yards 
from, but parallel to, the trail and soon came to Cold 
Spring. Here he saw quantities of camp and riding 
gear, abandoned firelocks, personal belongings, and 
other things "forgotten" by the brave Armijo and 
his army in their precipitate retreat from the Texans, 
while the latter were still one hundred and fifty miles 
away. Scouting in the vicinity for awhile he rode 
back and met the little ate jo, which had been plodding 
steadily on at its pace of three miles an hour; and all 
the urging of which the men were capable would 
not increase that speed. 

At the Upper Spring, which poured into a ravine 
and flowed toward the Cimarron a few miles to the 
north, the wagon road drew farther from the river 
and ran toward the Canadian ; and here the little party 
left it to turn and twist over and around hills, ravines, 
pastures and woods, and then slopped down the 



THE PASSING OF PEDRO 263 

middle of a storm-swollen rivulet. They turned up 
one of its small feeders and followed it for half a mile 
and then, crossing a little divide, struck another small 
brook and splashed down it until they came to the 
Cimarron. Here they threw into the river the use- 
less contents of the false packs, distributed the sup- 
plies among the mules, and pushed on again upstream 
along the bank. 

They now were well up on the headwaters of the 
river and its width was negligible, although its storm- 
fed torrent boiled and seethed and gave to it a false 
fierceness. Their doubling and the hiding of their 
trail in the streams had not been done so much for 
the purpose of throwing the Mexicans off their track, 
as to make their pursuers think they were trying to 
throw them off. They knew that the Mexicans, upon 
losing the tracks, would strike straight for the old 
and now almost abandoned Indian trail for Bent's 
Fort, 

"We got about a ten-hour start on 'em," growled 
Tom, " but they'll cut that down quick, once they git 
goin'. Reckon I'll lay back aways an' slow 'em up 
if they git hyar too soon." 

Zeb and Jim wheeled their horses and without a 
word accompanied him to the rear. 

Hank, leading the bell mule, pushed on, looking 
for the site of his old cache and for a good place to 
cross the swollen stream, and he soon stopped at the 
water's edge and howled like a wolf. In a few min- 
utes his companions came up, reported no Mexicans 
in sight, and unpacked the more perishable supplies. 
These they carried across to the other bank, their 



264 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

horses swimming strongly and soon the mules were 
ready to follow. Tom led off, entering the stream 
with the picket rope of the bell mule fastened to his 
saddle, and with his weapons, powder horn and "pos- 
sible " sack high above his head. His horse breasted 
the current strongly, quartering against it, and the 
bell mule followed. After her, with a slight show of 
hesitation, came the others, the three remaining hunt- 
ers bringing up the rear. 

As the atejo formed again and started forward Hank 
hung back, peering into the stunted trees and brush 
on the other side of the stream. 

" Come on, Hank," said Tom. " What ye lookin* 
fer? They warn't in sight." 

"I war sorta hankerin' fer 'em ter show up," 
growled Hank with deep regret. "That's plumb 
center range from hyar, over thar. Wouldn't mind 
takin' a couple o' cracks at 'em, out hyar by ourselves, 
us four. Alius hate ter turn my tail ter yaller-bellies 
like them varmints. I hate 'em next ter Crows ! " He 
slowly turned his horse and fell in behind the last 
mule, glancing back sorrowfully. Then he looked 
ahead. " Thar's my ol' cache," he chuckled. 

Before them on the right was an eroded hill with 
steep sides, its flat top covered with a thick mass of 
brush, berry bushes and scrub timber, and on its right 
was a swamp, filled with pools and rank with vegeta- 
tion. The dry wash marking the end of the great 
buffalo trail was dry no longer, but poured out a 
roiled, yellow-brown stream into the dirty waters of 
the Cimarron. 

Rounding the hill they stopped and exchanged 



THE PASSING OF PEDRO 265 

grins, for in a little horseshoe hollow two horses, with 
pack saddles on their backs, stopped their grazing, 
pulled to the end of their picket-ropes, and looked 
inquiringly at the invaders. 

"Thar's jest no understandin' th' ways o' Provi- 
dence," chuckled Hank as he dismounted. " Hyar 
we been a-wishin* an' a-wishin' fer a couple o' bosses 
to take th' place o' these cold-'lasses mules, an' danged 
if hyar they ain't, saddles an' all, right under our 
noses." 

While he went along the back trail on foot to a 
point from where he could see the river, his com- 
panions became busy. They pooled their supplies 
and packed them securely on the Providence-provided 
horses, put the rest on their own animals, picketed 
the mules and removed the bell from the old mare, 
tossing it aside so its warning tinkle would be stilled. 
Signalling Hank, in a few minutes they were on their 
way again along the faint and in many places totally 
effaced trail leading over the wastes to the distant 
trading post on the Arkansas. Coming to a rain- 
water rivulet Hank sent them westward down its 
middle while he rode splashingly upstream. Soon 
coming to a tangle of brush he forced his horse to 
take a few steps around it on the bank, returned to 
the stream and then, holding squarely to its middle, 
picked his way through the tangle and rode back to 
rejoin his friends, having left behind him a sign of his 
upward passing. In case Providence went to sleep 
and took no more interest in his affairs, he had the 
satisfaction of knowing that he had done what he 
could to hide their trail. 



266 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

He found his friends waiting for him and he shook 
his head as he joined them. "Danged if I Hke this 
hyar hidin'," he growled, coming back to his pet 
grievance. "I most gen'rally 'd ruther do it my- 
self." 

" But it ain't a question o' fighting," retorted Tom. 
" We got ter hide our trail from now on in case some 
greaser gits away, like they did from them Texans 
back nigh th' Crossin', an' takes th' news in ter th* 
settlements that we didn't go ter Bent's after we left 
th' wagon road. Ye'll git all th' danged fightin' yer 
lookin' fer afore ye puts Santa Fe behind ye — an' I'm 
bettin' we'll all show our trails a hull lot worse afore 
we git through ter Bent's. Come on; Turley's ranch 
is a long ways off. If yer itchin' ter try that re- 
peatin' rifle ye'll shore git th' chance ter, later." 

Hank grinned guiltily and while he was not thor- 
oughly convinced of the soundness of their flight, so 
far as his outward appearances showed, he grunted a 
little but pushed on and joined his partner. In a few 
minutes he grinned again. 

" I ain't never had th' chanct ter try fer six plumb- 
centers without takin' th' rifle from my shoulder," 
he remarked. "Jest wait till I take this hyar Colt 
up in th' Crow country!" He chuckled with antici- 
pated pleasures and then glanced sidewise at his part- 
ner. "Say, Tom," he said, reminiscently; "who air 
th' three other best men yer gal was thinkin' of, back 
thar in that little clearin'?" 

"What you mean?" demanded Tom, whirling in 
his saddle, his face flushing under its tan. "An' she 
ain't my gal, neither." 



THE PASSING OF PEDRO 267 

Hank chirped and twittered a bit. "Then who's 
is she?" 

"Don't know; but she won't like bein' called mine. 
Ye oughtn't call her that." 

"Not even atween us two?" 

"Not never, a-tall." 

"That so?" muttered Hank, a vague plan present- 
ing itself to his mind, to be considered and used 
later. " Huh ! I must be gittin' old an' worthless," 
he mourned. " I been readin' signs fer more'n thirty- 
year, an' I ain't never read none that war airy plainer, 
arter them thievin' 'Rapahoes turned tail an' lit out. 
Anyhow, I reckon mebby yer safe if ye keep on 
tJnnkin' that she's yer gal." He scratched his chin. 
"But who war th' other three?" 

"Why, I do remember her saying something like 
that," confessed Tom slowly, tingling as his memory 
hurled the whole scene before him. " Reckon she 
meant Uncle Joe an' her father." 

" That accounts fer two o' 'em," said Hank, nodding 
heavily; "but who in tarnation is th' third?" 

" Don't know," grunted Tom. 

"Huh! Bet he's that stuck-up, no-'count doctor 
feller. Yeah; that's who it is." He glanced slyly at 
his frowning friend. "Told ye I war gettin' old an' 
worthless. Gosh! an' she's goin' all th' rest o' th' 
way ter Santer Fe with him ! " He slapped his horse 
and growled in mock anxiety. " We better git a-goin' 
an' not loaf Hke we air. Santer Fe's a long ways off ! " 

Two miles further on they turned up a little branch 
of the stream and Hank, stopping his horse, threw up 
his hand. " Listen ! " he cried. 



26g "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

Four pairs of keen ears sifted the noises of the inter- 
mittent wind and three pairs of eyes turned to regard 
their companion. 

"What ye reckon ye heard?" curiously asked Zeb. 

"I'd take my oath I heard riflle shots — a little bust 
o' 'em," replied Hank. "Thar ain't no questionin' it; 
I am gittin' old. Come along; we'll keep ter th' 
water fur's we kin, anyhow." 

Back at the encampment of the caravan dawn 
found the animals stampeded, and considerable time 
elapsed before they were collected and before the 
absence of Tom and his friends was noticed. Then, 
with many maledictions, Pedro rallied his friends and 
set out along the wagon road, following a trail easily 
seen notwithstanding the rain which had beaten at 
the telltale tracks all night. Mile after mile unrolled 
behind them, saturated with Spanish curses; miles 
covered with all the vengeful ferocity and eagerness 
of Apaches. The score of Mexicans were well-armed, 
having spent the winter in the Missouri settlements 
and procured the best weapons to be had there. The 
Upper Spring came near and was put behind in a 
shower of hoof-thrown mud, and without pause they 
followed the tracks leading into the rough country, 
like hounds unleashed. They were five to one, and 
these odds were deemed sufficient in a sudden night 
attack. There would be satisfaction, glory, and profits 
for them all. The Governor had demanded Tom 
Boyd's ears, on him if possible, without him if they 
could be obtained in no other way ; the Governor was 
powerful and would reward loyal and zealous service. 



THE PASSING OF PEDRO 269 



They followed the trail of the atejo around hills, 
through ravines, and past woods, an advance guard 
of three men feeling the way. Then the tracks ceased 
at the side of a creek ; but they did not pause. Choos- 
ing the straightest practical route to the Cimarron at 
the beginning of the old Indian trail running north- 
ward to the Arkansas, they kept on. At last they 
saw the muddy flood of the river and as they reached 
its banks and read them at a glance they sent up an 
exultant shout. Holding their weapons and powder 
well above the backs of their swimming horses they 
reached the further side and took up the trail again. 
Pedro dashed forward and flung up an arm and as 
his followers stopped in answer he cheered them with 
a Spanish oration, in which Pedro played no minor 
part. "Pedro never loses!" he boasted. "Before 
noon we will be on the heels of the gringo dogs and 
our scouts will find their camp in the night. Before 
another sun rises in the heavens we will have their 
ears at our belts and their trade goods on the way to 
the Valley of Taos ! Forward, my braves ! Forward, 
my warriors! Pedro leads you to glory!" 

They snapped forward in their saddles as the spurs 
went home, their rifles at the ready, their advance 
guard steadily forging ahead, and thundered along 
the tracks of the fleeing atejo. Rounding the little 
hill with its frowsy cap of brush and scrub timber, 
they received a stunning surprise; for dropping down 
the steep bank as if from the sky charged twenty- 
odd vengeful Texans, their repeating rifles cracking 
like the roll of a drum. Pedro's exultant face be- 
came a sickly yellow, his burning eyes in an instant 



£70 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

changed to glass, and his boasting words were 
slashed across by the death rattle in his throat. Vol- 
ley after volley crashed and roared as the charging 
Texans wheeled to charge back again, and as they 
turned once more on the hillside they pulled up sharp- 
ly and viewed the havoc of their deadly work. No 
man was left to carry tales, and Pedro had spoken 
with prophetic vision, for he had indeed led his war- 
riors to glory — and oblivion. 



CHAPTER XVII 



CIRCLING back to the river so as not to lose its 
guidance nor stray too far out of the direct 
course, they reached its desolate banks at nightfall 
and camped at the base of a low hill on the top of 
which grew dense masses of greasewood. Zeb had 
shot a black-tailed deer on their way to the river and 
their supper that night, so far as the meat was con- 
cerned, would have delighted the palate of an epicure. 
Cooked over the hot, sputtering, short-lived grease- 
wood, which constantly was added, and kept on the 
windward side of the blaze, the flavor of the meat was 
very little affected and they gorged, hunter-like, until 
they could eat no more; and partly smoked some of 
the remaining meat to have against some pressing 
need. 

As the stream dwindled the nature of its banks and 
of the surrounding country changed, the vegetation 
steadily becoming more desert-like. White chalk 
cliffs arose like painted eyebrows from the tops of the 
banks, where erosion had revealed them; loose and 
disintegrating sandstone lay about the broken plain 
in myriads of shapes. Stunted and dead cottonwoods 
added their touch to the general scene, leaning this 
way and that, weird, uncanny, ghostlike. The drab 
sagebrush and the green fan of the palmetto became 

371 



2T2_ "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

steadily more common, the latter figuring largely in 
the daily Hfe of the Mexicans, for its mashed, sapon- 
aceous roots provided them with their pulpy amole, 
which was an excellent substitute for soap. Prickly 
pears, Spanish bayonets, masses of greasewood bushes 
and scattering fringes of short grama grass completed 
the carpeting of the desolate plain. 

Doggedly they pushed on, thankful for the heavy 
rains of the last two days, which had reached even 
here and left little pools of bad-tasting water for them- 
selves and their beasts. At noon they stopped and 
built a fire of stunted cedar, for in daylight its telltale 
flames told nothing. They cooked another black- 
tailed deer, smoked some of the meat, and ran bullets 
until they had all of the latter they could possibly 
use. On again toward the Canadian until nightfall, 
lighting no fire, but eating the meat they had cooked 
at noon. They arranged a four-shift watch and 
passed a peaceful night. In their range of vision 
were Raton Peak, Pike's Peak, and the Wet Moun- 
tain, that paradise for hunters; the twin Spanish 
Peaks with their caps of snow, and behind these tow- 
ering sentries loomed the sullen bulk of a great moun- 
tain range under a thin streak of glittering white. 

At any distance their appearance hardly would tell 
whether they were white hunters or Indians from 
Bent's, since their garb was a mixture of both and 
their skins so tanned, their hair so long as to cause 
grave doubts. More than once in that country two 
white men have exchanged shots, each taking the 
other for an Indian. At Bent's Fort on the Arkansas 
there were stray Indians from far-off tribes, and they 



"'SPRESS FROM BENT'S" 273 

dressed in what they could get; and at The Pueblo, 
that little trading post farther up on the Arkansas, 
Indians and whites lived together and intermarried. 
Not one of the four but could speak more than one 
savage dialect; and Tom's three companions pos- 
sessed an Indian vocabulary which left little to be 
desired. If it came to a test which might prove too 
severe for him he could be dumb, and fall back on the 
sign language. 

At last the Canadian was reached and passed, and 
Hank led them unerringly up the valley of a little 
feeding stream which poured its crystal flood down 
the gorges of a mountain range now almost over their 
heads. Coming to a rocky bowl scooped out of the 
sheer, overhanging wall at a bend, he built a fire of 
dry wood that was safely screened, and from his " pos- 
sible " sack he took various leaves and stems and 
roots he had collected on the way. Four white men 
looking more like Indians had entered that little 
valley just before dusk. In the morning at dawn two 
white men, a Blackfoot and a Delaware, a hunting 
party from Bent's Fort with messages for Bent's little 
Vermajo ranch, located in a mountain valley, left the 
ravine and followed a little-used Ute trail that their 
leader knew well. Hank wore the Blackfoot distinc- 
tive double part in his hair just above the forehead, 
the isolated tuft pulled down to the bridge of his 
nose, and fastened to his buckskin trousers were thin 
strips of beadwork made by Blackfoot squaws. 

The Mexican herder working for Bent uneasily: 
watched them as they rode up to his makeshift lean-to 
and demanded a change of horses, a report of his 



274 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Stewardship, and the use of his fire. They were not 
bad fellows and were generous with their heavenly 
tobacco, and finally his uneasiness wore away and he 
gossiped with them while the night more and more 
shut in his lavish fire and seemed to soften the guttural 
polyglot of the two Indians. The white men did 
most of the talking, as was usual, and could make 
themselves understood in the herder's bastard Span- 
ish and they answered sociably his numerous ques- 
tions. Had they heard of the great Tejano army 
marching to avenge the terrible defeat inflicted by 
the brave Armijo on their swaggering vanguard? 
It was the great subject from the upper end of the 
Valley of Taos to the last settlement along the Rio 
Grande and the Pecos. The ignoble dogs of Tejanos 
had basely murdered the brave Mexican scouting 
party near the Cimarron Crossing of the Arkansas. 
What could the soldats of Mexico do, attacked in their 
sleep ? Most of the murdered soldats had come from 
the Valley of Taos, which always had been friendly 
to Texas. Was it true that the Tejanos spit fire on 
dry nights and could kill a full-grown bull buffalo 
with their bare hands? Ah, they were devils and the 
sons of devils, those Tejanos; and at night all doors 
were tightly barred in the settlements and strange 
Americans regarded with suspicion. 

Some nights later, down the rough, steep sides of 
the Arroyo Hondo, through which trickled a ribbon 
of water from a recent rain, four Indians rode care- 
fully, leading two pack animals. They were two 
Arapahoes, a Blackfoot, and a Delaware, and they fol- 
lowed the ravine and soon came in sight of the little 



'''SPRESS FROM BENT'S'' 275 

mountain pasture, dotted with cedar bushes and 
sparsely covered with grass, which sloped gently down 
the mountain side. In the fading twilight the so-called 
ranch stood vaguely outlined, the nature of its log 
and adobe walls indiscernible, its mill and the still 
house looming vaguely over the main building against 
the darker background of the slope. The faint smell 
of sour mash almost hid the mealy odor of the grist 
mill; hogs grunted in the little corral by the fenced- 
in garden, while an occasional bleating of sheep came 
from the same enclosure. Dark shapes moved over 
the cedar-brush pasture and the frequent stamping 
of hoofs told they were either horses or mules. High 
up near the roof of the composite building were nar- 
row oblongs of faint radiance, where feeble candle 
light shone through the little squares of gypsum, so 
much used in that country in place of window glass. 
As the four new-comers smilingly looked at the com- 
fortable building the foot-compelling strains of a cheap 
violin squeaked and rasped resinously from the living 
quarters and a French-Canadian, far from home, burst 
ecstatically into song. Dreaming chickens cackled 
briefly and a sleepy rooster complained in restrained 
indignation, while the rocky mountain side relayed 
the distant howl of a prowling coyote. 

The leader drew the flap over the ultra-modern rifle 
in its sheath at his leg and glanced back at his com- 
panions. 

"Wall," he growled, "hyar we air; we're plumb 
inter it, now." 

"Up ter our scalp-locks," came a grunted reply. 

" Hell ! 'Tain't th' fust time they've been in danger. 



276 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

They'll stand a lot o' takin'/' chuckled another voice. 
He softly imitated a coyote and the sleepy inmates of 
the hen house burst into a frightened chorus. 

"Hain't ye got no sense?" asked Hank, reprovingly. 

''^Wouldn't be hyar if I had. I smell sour mash. 
Let's go on." 

Hank kneed his mount, no longer the one which 
had become so well known to many eyes on the long 
wagon trail, and led the way down to the door. At 
the soft confusion of guttural tongues outside the 
house the door opened and Turley, the proprietor, 
stood framed in the dim light behind him. 

"'Spress from Sefior Bent's," said the nearest In- 
dian, walking forward. "It's Hank Marshall," he 
whispered. "Want ter palaver with ye, Turley." 

" Want's more whiskey, I reckon," growled Turley. 
" Hobble yer bosses on th' pasture. Ye kin roll up 
'most anywhar ye like. Fed yit?" 

" Si, senor; muchos gracias" answered the Indian. 
*'Senor! cary mucho aguardiente grano!" 

"Oh, ye do?" sarcastically replied Turley. 
*' Whiskey, huh? Wall, ye'll do better without it. 
What's Bent want o' me?" 

"Aguardiente de grano, senor!'* 

Turley chuckled. " He does, hey? I say he picks 
damned poor messengers to send fer whiskey! 
We'll talk about that tomorrow. Roll up some'rs in 
yer blankets an' don't pester me." He stepped back 
and the door slammed in the eager, pleading face of 
the Blackfoot, to a chorus of disappointed grunts. 
The rebuffed savage timidly knocked on the door and 
it was flung open, Turley glaring down at him. " Ye 



*"SPRESS FROM BENT'S'' 277 

heard what I said, an' ye savvied it ! Reckon I want 
four drunk Injuns 'round hyar all night? We ain't 
a-goin' ter have no damned nonsense. Take yer ani- 
mals off ter th' pasture an' camp down by th' crick! 
Vamoose!" 

The picture of pugnacity, he stood in the door and 
watched them slowly, sullenly obey him, and then 
he slammed it again, swearing under his breath. 
" Quickest way ter git murdered is ter give them In- 
juns likker!" he growled. 

"Mais, oui," said the French-Canadian, placing his 
fiddle back under his chin, and the stirring air went 
on again. 

Three hours before dawn Hank awoke and without 
moving his body let his eyes rove over the dark pas- 
ture. Then Hke a flash of light his heavy pistol 
jammed into the dark blotch almost at his side, and 
he growled a throaty inquiry. 

"It's me, Hank," came the soft reply. "Take that 
damned thing away! What's up?" 

Three other pairs of eyes were turned on them and 
then their owners stirred a little and griinted saluta- 
tions, and made slight rustlings as their hands re- 
placed what they had held. 

" Nothin', only a courtin' party," chuckled Hank. 

"Wall, I've heard tell o' courtin' parties," rumi- 
nated Turley; "but never one made up like Injuns and 
armed to th' teeth. Might know some damned fool 
thing war afoot when yer mixed up in it. Who ye 
courtin', at yer time o' life? Somebody's wife?" 

"We're aimin' fer Santer Fe," said Hank. "Got 
ter have help ter git thar th' way we wants. Them 



278 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

Texans has made it hard fer us, a-stirrin' up every- 
thin' like they has." 

"Whar'd ye git yer hosses?" anxiously demanded 
Turley. 

" Inderpendence, Missoury," innocently answered 
Hank, his grin lost in the darkness. 

"Then ye come over th* wagon trail, an' up th' 
Arkansas?" 

"Over th' wagon trail an' up th' Cimarron, with 
th' second caravan o' traders. Come nigh straight 
acrost from Cold Spring." 

"Wall, I'll be damned!" muttered Turley. Then 
he snorted. "Ain't ye got no sense, ye Root Digger? 
Everybody in th' train'll know them hosses ! " 

" We swapped 'em at Bent's rancho on th' Vermajo 
— good gosh ! Two o' 'em come from them Texans ! " 

"They didn't have no brands," said Tom. "I 
heard 'em say somethin' about gettin' some at Bent's. 
We got ter risk it, anyhow. It'll be like addin' a 
spoonful o' freight ter a wagon load." 

Hank's mind was running in a groove that he had 
been gouging deeper and longer hour after hour and 
he refused to be sidetracked by any question con- 
cerning the horses they had changed. "We want 
ter swap hosses ag'in an' borry some rags fer clothes; 
an' before daylight, too." 

Tom arose on one elbow. "That's all right, fur's 
it goes ; only it don't go no-whar," he declared. " We 
want ter git rid o' these hosses, an' we want th' 
clothes; but that ain't all. We want a job, Turley. 
Need any mule wranglers ter take some freight inter 
Santer Fe?" 



'''SPRESS FROM BENT'S'' 279 

"Day after tomorrow," answered Turley. "We 
got ter git rid o' these animals afore then, ye got 
ter git shet o' 'em afore mornin'. I'll send Jacques 
out ter take 'em away as soon as I go back ter th' 
house. Arter he leaves with 'em I'll bring ye some 
ol' clothes so ye'll look a little different from them 
four fools that swapped bosses at Bent's rancho. Th' 
peon up thar won't git away, nor mebby see nobody 
fer weeks; but we better take th' pelt afore th' meat 
spiles under it. I got some bosses th' Utes stole 
from th' 'Rapahoes. We stole 'em from th* Utes. 
They ain't marked, an' they ain't knowed down in 
th' valley." 

" But we'll still be four," commented Tom, thought- 
fully. 

"That's shore a plain trail," said Jim Ogden. 
"Here: You an' Hank take a mule apiece an' go 
back th' way we come, fur a spell. Me an' Zeb kin 
freight whiskey with Turley's ate jo, an' meet ye along 
th' trail some'rs, or in Santer Fe, at th' warehouse. 
Ye kin load yer mules with faggots ter be sold in 
town, an' tag outer our mule train fer society 
an' pertection. Yer rifles kin be hid under th' 
faggots." 

" We'll be unpackin' th' mules noon an' night," 
replied Tom. "How 'bout our rifles then?" 

" Can't be did," grunted Hank. 

" We got ter risk that peon seein' anybody ter talk 
to," said Tom. "Anyhow, 'tain't nothin' unusual fer 
him ter see fellers from th' fort. We'll go on with 
th' atejo, after we make a few changes in our clothes, 
an' ride Turley's bosses 'stead o' Bent's. But we 



28o "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

can't jine that mule train as no party o' four. We got 
ter lose that danged number, that's flat." 

" You an' Hank," offered Zeb, " bein' Blackfoot an' 
Delaware, kin be hunters from Bent's; me an' Jim, 
bein' 'Rapahoes turned friendly, kin come from St. 
Vrain's post. Th' South Platte, up thar,^ is th' 'Rapa- 
hoe stampin' ground an' we both know it from one 
end to t'other. That'll count fer all o' us havin' first- 
class weapons. Somebody's shore goin' ter notice 
them." 

Turley nodded. "Yes; hyar's whar ye lose that 
cussed four. You two 'Rapahoes git scarce afore 
daylight, goin' on foot an' leavin' no trail. Come 
back from th' way o' th' old Ute trail from th' Bayou 
Salade. I'm runnin' a little herdin' up o' my bosses 
on th' side o' th' mounting; they're scatterin' in th' 
brush too much. Fer that I'll be needin' all my men 
that ain't goin' as muleteers. I'll hire you boys, two 
at a time, ter go 'long with th' atejo as guards. 
Thar's thieves atween hyar an' Santer Fe that likes 
Turley's whiskey an' ground meal. I'll give ye a 
writin' ter my agent in town to pay ye off, an' ye'll 
git through, all right. Do ye reckon ye'll have ter 
git outer Santer Fe on th' jump? Seein' as how yer 
so danged careful how ye git inter th' town, it may 
be that ye ain't welcome a hull lot. Knowin' Hank 
like I do, makes me suspicious." 

"We'll mebby git out quicker'n scat," answered 
Tom, chuckling. "They'll mebby be touchy about 
strangers, with them Texans prowlin' 'round. If we 
git ter goin' strong as a Texan raid an' they find out 
that it's only four no-'count Injuns full o' Taos 



"'SPRESS FROM BENT'S'' 281 

lightnin', they'll mebby move fast. We may make 
quite a ruckus afore we git through, if they find out 
who we air." 

"What th' hell ye aimin' ter do? Capture th' 
town? " demanded Turley, unable to longer hold down 
his curiosity. 

"Aimin' ter git our trade goods money, see a young 
lady, hang 'round till th' return caravan start back 
fer th' States, an' mebby squar up fer a few o' them 
Texans that didn't git ter Mexico City," answered 
Tom. 

"This hyar's th' Tom Boyd that slapped Armijo's 
kiyote face," explained Hank. "We hears th' Gov- 
ernor is lonesome fer his company." 

" Great Jehovah yes ! " exclaimed Turley. " Boyd, 
ye better jine that thar caravan from Bent's, meetin' 
up with it at th' Crossin'. Armijo combed these 
hyar mountings fer ye, an' watched my rancho fer 
nigh a week. He'd 'most give his right hand ter git 
a-holt o' you; an' if he does, you kin guess what'll 
happen ter you!" He peered curiously at the young 
American and shook his head. "I'm bettin' ye do 
leave on th' jump, if yer lucky enough ter leave at 
all. Ye'll need fresh bosses, another change o' clothes 
an' a cache o' grub. Tell ye what," he said, turning 
to Hank. " Ye know that little mounting valley whar 
you an' me stopped fer two days, that time we war 
helpin' find th' bosses that war run oE Bent's Vermajo 
rancho? Wall, I'll fix it so these hyar bosses will be 
waitin' fer ye up thar. I got some men I kin trust 
as long as I'm playin' agin' th' greasers. I'll cache 
ye some Dupont an' Galena, too," he offered, referring 



282 ''BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

to powder and lead. The latter came from Galena, 
Illinois, and took its name from that place. 

"An' forty pounds o' jerked meat a man," added 
Hank. "We might have ter go clean up ter th* 
South Park afore we dast turn fer Bent's. Hang it 
on that thar dead ash we used afore, or clost by if 
th' tree's down. We better leave ye some more bul- 
lets as will fit our own weapons without no doubt. 
We kin run more in th' warehouse in Santer Fe if 
we need 'em. Keep yer Galena, Turley, an' leave 
some patches, instid, along with our bullets." 

" But we'll still be four arter we leave hyar," ob- 
jected Jim. 

"No, ye won't," replied Turley. "Ye'll show up 
in pairs, ye'll jine in pairs, ye'll ride an' 'sociate in 
pairs, an' thar'll be a dozen more mixin' up with 
ye. Wall, talk it over among ye while I gits busy 
afore it's light," and the friendly rancher was swal- 
lowed up in the night. 

A few minutes later Jacques, sleepy and grumbling, 
loomed up out of the darkness, collected the six 
horses and departed up the slope. Shortly after him 
came Turley with a miscellaneous collection of odds 
and ends of worn-out clothing and soon his friends 
had exchanged a garment or two with him. Tom 
and Hank parted with their buckskin shirts and now 
wore coarse garments of Pueblo make; Zeb had a 
Comanche leather jerkin and Jim wore a blue cotton 
shirt patched with threadbare red flannel. They 
bound bands of beadwork or soft tanned skin around 
their foreheads, and Hank's hair proudly displayed 
two iridescent bronze feathers from the tail of a 



'"SPRESS FROM BENT'S" 283^ 

^ - •-■ 

rooster. If Joe Cooper, himself, had come face to 
face with them he would have passed by without a 
second glance. 

Silently Zeb and Jim melted into the night, while 
Tom and Hank arose and went around to the wall 
of the still house, rolled up in their newly-acquired 
blankets against the base of the adobe wall and slept 
until discovered and awakened after dawn by one of 
Turley's mill hands, who paid them a timid and gen- 
uine respect. 

They loafed around all day, watching the still 
house with eager eyes. Their wordless pleading was 
in vain, however, for Turley, frankly scowling at their 
first appearance, totally ignored them thereafter. Just 
before dusk two half-civihzed Arapahoes from St. 
Vrain's South Platte trading post swung down the 
mountain side, cast avaricious eyes on some horses 
in the pasture, sniffed deeply at the still house, and 
asked for whiskey. 

"I'll give ye whiskey," said Turley after a 
moment's thought, a grin spreading over his face, 
"but I won't give it ter ye hyar. If ye want likker 
I'll give ye a writin' ter my agent in Santer Fe, an' 
he'll give ye all yer porous skins kin hold, an* a jug 
ter take away with ye." 

*'Si, senor! Si, senor! Muchos gracias!" 

"Hold on thar! Hold yer bosses!" growled Tur- 
ley. " Ye don't reckon I'm makin' ye no present, do 
ye? Ye got ter earn that likker. If ye want it bad 
enough ter escort my atejo ter th' city, it's yourn. 
I'm combin' my bosses outer th' brush, an' I'm short- 
handed. By gosh!" he chuckled, smihng broadly. 



284 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

"That's a couple more thirsty Injuns 'round hyar, 
some'rs; hey, Jacques! Go find them watch dogs 
o' th' still house. They won't be fur away, you kin 
bet. These two an' them shore will scare th' thieves 
plumb ter death all th' way ter town. I kin feel my 
ha'r move!" 

Jacques returned shortly with Bent's thirsty hire- 
lings, and after some negotiations and the promise 
of horses for them to ride, the Indians accepted his 
offer. They showed a little reluctance until he had 
given each of them a drink of his raw, new whiskey, 
which seemed to serve as fuel to feed a fire already 
flaming. The bargain struck, he ordered them fed 
and let them sleep on the softest bit of ground they 
could find around the rancho. 



CHAPTER XVIII 

SANTA FE 

AFTER an early breakfast the atejo of nineteen 
mules besides the mulera, or bell mule, was 
brought out of the pasture and the aparejos, leather 
bags stuffed with hay, thrown on their backs and 
cinched fast with wide belts of woven sea-grass, which 
were drawn so cruelly tight that they seemed almost 
to cut the animals in two ; this cruelty was a necessary 
one and saved them greater cruelties by holding the 
packs from slipping and chafing them to the bone. 
Groaning from the tightness of the cinches they stood 
trembling while the huge cruppers were put into place 
and breast straps tightened. Then the carga was 
placed on them, the whiskey carriers loaded with a 
cask on each side, firmly bound with rawhide ropes; 
the meal carriers with nearly one hundred fifty pounds 
in sacks on each side. While the mules winced now, 
after they had become warmed up and the hay of 
the aparejos packed to a better fit, they could travel 
longer and carry the heavy burdens with greater ease 
than if the cinches were slacked. The packing down 
and shaping of the aparejo so loosened the cinch and 
ropes that frequently it was necessary to stop and 
tighten them all after a mile or so had been put be- 
hind. 

The atejo was in charge of a major-domo, five 
28s 



286 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

arrieros, or muleteers and a cook, or the madre, who 
usually went ahead and led the bell mule. All the 
men rode well-trained horses, and both men and 
horses from Turley's rancho were sleek, well fed and 
contented, for the proprietor was known throughout 
the valley, and beyond, for his kindness, honesty and 
generosity; and he was repaid in kind, for his em- 
ployees were faithful, loyal, and courageous in stand- 
ing up for his rights and in defending his property. 
Yet the time was to come some years hence when 
his sterling qualities would be forgotten and he would 
lose his life at the hands of the inhabitants of the 
valley. 

The atejo swiftly and dexterously packed, the two 
pairs of bloodthirsty looking Indian guards divided 
into advance and rear guard, the madre led the bell 
mule down the slope and up the trail leading over 
the low mountainous divide toward Ferdinand de 
Taos, the grunting mules following in orderly file. 

The trail wandered around gorges and bowlders 
and among pine, cedar, and dwarf oaks and through 
patches of service berries with their small, grapelike 
fruit, and crossed numerous small rivulets carrying 
off the water of the rainy season. Taos, as it was 
improperly called, lay twelve miles distant at the foot 
of the other side of the divide, and it was reached 
shortly after noon without a stop on the way. The 
"noonings" observed by the caravans were not al- 
lowed in an atejo, nor were the mules permitted to 
stop for even a moment while on the way, for if 
allowed a moment's rest they promptly would lie 
down, and in attempting to arise under their heavy 



SANTA FE 287 



loads were likely to strain their loins so badly as to 
render them forever unfit for work. To remove and 
replace the packs would take too much time. Because 
of the steady traveling the day's journey rarely ex- 
ceeded five or six hours nor covered more than 
twelve to fifteen miles. 

Taos reached, the packs were removed and cov- 
ered by the aparejos, each pile kept separate. Turned 
out to graze with the bell mule, without picket rope 
or hobbles, the animals would not leave her and could 
be counted on, under ordinary circumstances, to be 
found near camp and all together. 

Taos, a miserable village of adobes, and the largest 
town in the valley, had a population of a few Ameri- 
can and Canadian trappers who had married Mexican 
or Indian women; poor and ignorant Mexicans of all 
grades except that of pure Spanish blood, and Indians 
of all grades except, perhaps, those of pure Indian 
blood. The mixed breed Indians had the more 
courage of the two, having descended from the 
Taosas, a tribe still inhabiting the near-by pueblo, 
whose warlike tendencies were almost entirely dis- 
played in defensive warfare in the holding of their 
enormous, pyramidal, twin pueblos located on both 
sides of a clear little stream. In the earlier days 
marauding bands of Yutaws and an occasional war- 
party of Cheyennes or Arapahoes had learned at a 
terrible cost that the Pueblo de Taos was a nut far 
beyond their cracking, and from these expeditions 
into the rich and fertile valley but few returned. 

Here was a good chance to test the worth of their 
disguises, for the three older plainsmen were well- 



288 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

known to some of the Americajis and Canadians in 
the village, Slaving been on long trips into the moun- 
tains with a few of them. And so, after the meal of 
frijoles, atole and jerked meat, the latter a great luxury 
to Mexicans of the grade of arrieros, Hank and his 
two Arapahoe companions left the little encampment 
and wandered curiously about the streets, to the edi- 
fication of uneasy townsfolk, whose conjectures leaned 
toward the unpleasant. Ceran St. Vrain, on a visit 
to the town, passed them close by but did not recog- 
nize the men he had seen for days at a time at his 
trading post on the South Platte. Simonds, a hunter 
from Bent's Fort, passed within a foot of Hank and 
did not know him; yet the two had spent a season 
together in the Middle Park, lying just across the 
mountain range west of Long's Peak. 

Continuing on their way the next morning they 
camped in the open valley for the night, and the next 
day crossed a range of mountains. The next village 
was El Embudo, a miserable collection of mud huts 
at the end of a wretched trail. The Pueblo de San 
Juan and the squalid, poverty-stricken village of La 
Canada followed in turn. Everywhere they found 
hatred and ill-disguised fear of the Texans roaming 
beyond the Canadian. Next they reached the Pueblo 
de Ohuqui and here found snug accommodations for 
themselves and their animals in the little valley. 
From the pueblo the trail lay through an arroyo over 
another mountain and they camped part way down 
its southeast face with Santa Fe sprawled out below 
them. 

Morning found them going down the sloping trail. 



SANTA FE 289 



the Indian escort surreptitiously examining their 
rifles, and in the evening they entered the collection 
of mud houses honored by the name of San Francisco 
de la Santa Fe, whose population of about three thou- 
sand souls was reputed to be the poorest in worldly 
wealth in the entire province of New Mexico; and, 
judging from the numbers of openly run gambling 
houses, rum shops and worse, the town might have 
deserved the reputation of being the poorest in morals 
and spiritual wealth. 

Sprawled out under the side of the mountain, its 
mud houses of a single story, its barracks, calabozo 
and even the "palace" of the governor made of mud, 
with scarcely a pane of glass in the whole town; its 
narrow streets littered with garbage and rubbish; 
with more than two-thirds of its population bare- 
footed and unkempt, a mixture of Spaniards and 
Indians for generations, in which blending the baser 
parts of their natures seemed singularly fitted to sur- 
vive; with cringing, starving dogs everywhere; full 
of beggars, filthy and in most cases disgustingly dis- 
eased, with hands outstretched for alms, as ready to 
curse the tight of purse as to bless the generous, and 
both to no avail; with its domineering soldiery with- 
out a pair of shoes between them, its arrogant officers 
in shiny, nondescript uniforms and tarnished gilt, with 
huge swords and massive spurs, to lead the unshod 
mob of privates into cowardly retreat or leave them 
to be slaughtered by their Indian foes, whose lances 
and bows were superior in accuracy and execution 
to the ancient firelocks so often lacking in necessary 
parts ; reputed to be founded on the ruins of a pueblo 



290 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

which had flourished centuries before the later "city" 
and no doubt was its superior in everything but 
shameless immorahty. There, under Sante Fe moun- 
tain and the pure and almost cloudless blue sky, along 
the little mountain stream of the same name, lay 
Santa Fe, the capital of the department of New Mex- 
ico, and the home of her vainglorious, pompous, good- 
looking, and brutal governor; Santa Fe, the greatest 
glass jewel in a crown of tin; Santa Fe, the customs 
gate and the disappointing end of a long, hard trail. 
Through the even more filthy streets of the pov- 
erty-stricken outskirts of the town went the little 
atejo, disputing right-of-way in the narrow, porch- 
crowded thoroughfares with hoja (corn husk) sellers 
and huge burro loads of pine and cedar faggots gath- 
ered from the near-by mountain; past the square 
where the mud hovels of the soldiers lay; past a mud 
church whose tall spire seemed ever to be stretching 
away from the smells below; past odorous hog stys, 
crude mule corrals with their scarred and mutilated 
creatures, and sheep pens, and groups of avid cock- 
fighters; past open doors through which the half- 
breed women, clothed in a simple garment hanging 
from the shoulders, could be seen cooking frijoles or 
the thin, watery atole and hovering around the flat 
stones which served for stoves; past these and worse 
plodded the atejo, the shrewd mules braying their 
delight at a hard journey almost ended. Sullen 
Indians, apologetic Mexicans, swaggering and too 
often drunken soldiers gave way to them, while a 
string of disputing, tail-tucking dogs followed at a 
distance, ever wary, ever ready to wheel and run. 



SANTA FE . 2gT 



Reaching the Plaza Pnhlica, which was so bare of 
even a blade of grass or a solitary tree, and its ground 
so scored and beaten and covered with rubbish to 
suggest that it suffered the last stages of some earthly- 
mange, they came to the real business section of the 
town, where nearly every shop was owned by for- 
eigners. Around this public plaza stood the archi- 
tectural triumphs of the city. There was the palacia 
of the governor, with its mud walls and its extended 
roof supported on rough pine columns to form a great 
porch; the custom-house, with its greedy, grafting 
officials; the mud barracks connected to the atrocious 
and much dreaded ca/a&o^o^ whose inmates had aban- 
doned hope as they crossed its threshold; the mud 
city hall, the military chapel, fast falling into ruin, 
and a few dwellings. The interest attending the pass- 
ing of the atejo increased a little as the pack train 
crossed this square, for the Indian gtiards were con- 
spicuous by their height and by the breadth of 
shoulder, and the excellence of their well-kept weap- 
ons. Strangers were drawing more critical attention 
these days, with the Texan threat hanging over the 
settlements along the Pecos and the Rio Grande. 
Peon women and Indian squaws regarded the four 
with apparent approval and as they left the square 
and plunged into the poorer section again, compH- 
ments and invitations reached their ears. Hopeless 
mosos, or ill-paid servants, most of them kept in 
actual slavery by debts they never could pay oiff be- 
cause of the system of accounting used against them, 
regarded the four enviously and yearned for their 
freedom. 



■292 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Of the four Indians, a tall, strapping Delaware, 
stooping to be less conspicuous, whose face was the 
dirtiest in the atejo, suddenly stiffened and then forced 
himself to relax into his former lazy slouch. The 
rattle of an imported Dearborn, which at all times 
had to be watched closely to keep its metal parts from 
being stripped off and stolen, filled the street as the 
vehicle rocked along the ruts toward them, drawn 
by two good horses and driven by one Joseph Cooper, 
of St. Louis, Missouri. At his side sat his niece, look- 
ing with wondering and disapproving eyes about her, 
her pretty face improved by its coat of healthy tan, 
but marred somewhat by the look of worry it so 
plainly showed. She appeared sad and wistful, but 
at times her thoughts leaped far away and brought 
her fleeting smiles so soft, so tender, as to banish the 
look of worry and for an instant set a glory there. 

Her glance took in the little pack train and its 
stalwart guards and passed carelessly over the bend- 
ing Delaware, and then returned to linger on him 
while one might count five. Then he and the atejo 
passed from sight and she looked ahead again, unsee- 
ing, for her memory was racing along a wagon road, 
and became a blank in a frightful, all-night storm. 
At her sigh Uncle Joe glanced sidewise at her and 
took a firmer grip on his vile native cigar, and silently 
cursed the day she had left St. Louis. 

" Load of wheat whiskey from th' rancho, I reckon," 
he said, and pulled sharply on the reins to keep from 
running over a hypnotized ring of cock-fighters. 
"How your paw can live all th' year 'round in this 
fester of a town is a puzzle to me. I'd rather be in 



SANTA FE 299 



a St. Louis jail. Cigar?" he sneered, yanking it from 
his mouth and regarding it with palpitant disgust. 
He savagely hurled it from him. " Hell ! " 

A tangle of arms and legs rolled out of a rum shop 
and fought impotently in the dust of the street, and 
sotted faces grinned down at them from the crowded 
door. A flaky-skinned beggar slouched from behind 
the corner of the building and held out an imploring 
hand, which the driver's contemptuous denial turned 
into a clenched fist afloat in a sea of Spanish maledic- 
tions. 

The pack train having reached its destination, the 
two pairs of guards, clutching their "writin"' from 
Turley, departed in hot haste to claim their pay- 
ment, and not long thereafter, rifleless, wandered 
about on foot to see the sights, gaping and curious. 
In the hand of each was a whiskey jug, the cynosure 
of all eyes. The Plaza Publica seemed to fascinate 
them, for they spent most of their time there; and 
when they passed the guard house in the palacio they 
generously replied to the coaxing banter of the guard 
ofif watch, and went on again with lightened jugs. 
Here as elsewhere they sensed a poorly hidden feel- 
ing of unrest, and hid their smiles; somewhere north 
of Texas the Tejanos rode with vengeance in their 
hearts and certain death in their heretic rifles. No 
one knew how close they might be, or what moment 
they would storm into the town behind their deadly 
weapons. But the fear was largely apathetic, for 
these people, between the Apache and Comanche raids 
of year after year, had suckled fear from their 
mothers' breasts. 



294 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Finally, apprehensive of the attention they were 
receiving, the strange Indians left the plaza and 
sought refuge with the mules of the atejo, to remain 
there until after dark; and at their passing, groups 
of excited women or quarreling children resumed their 
gambling in the streets and all was serene again. 

Gambling here was no fugitive evader of the law, 
no crime to be enjoyed in secret, but was an institu- 
tion legalized and flourishing. There even was a 
public gaming house, where civil officers, traders, mer- 
chants, travelers, and the clergy grouped avidly 
around the monte tables and played at fever heat, 
momentarily beyond the reach of any other obsession. 
Regularly the governor and his wife graced the temple 
of chance with their august persons and held informal 
levees among the tables, making the place a Mecca 
for favor-seekers and sycophants, and a golden treas- 
ury for the " house." At this time, so soon after the 
arrival of two great caravans and the collection of 
so much impost, part of which stuck to every finger 
that handled it, the play ran high throughout the 
crowded room. 

The round of festivities attending the arrival of 
the wagon trains were not yet stilled, and fandangoes 
nightly gave hilarity a safety valve. Great lumbering 
carretas, their wheels cut from solid sections of tree 
trunks and the whole vehicle devoid of even a single 
scrap of precious iron, shrieked and rattled through 
the dark streets, filled with shoddy cavaliers and 
dazzling women, whose dresses seemed planned to 
tempt the resolutions of a saint. Rehosa or lace 
mantilla over full, rounded, dark and satin)- breasts; 



SANTA FE 295 



fans wielded with an inherited art, to coax and repel 
the victims of great and smouldering eyes of jet, which 
melted one moment to blaze the next — this was the 
magic segment of the clock's round. Now the eye- 
sores of the squalid town were hidden from critical 
sight, and the alluring softness and mystery of an 
ancient Spanish city made one forget the almost un- 
forgetable. Life and Death danced hand in hand; 
Love and Hate bowed and courtesied, and the mad 
green fires of Jealousy flickered or flared; while the 
poverty and the sordid tragedies of the day gave 
place to tingling Romance in the feathery night. 
Violins and guitars caressed the darkness with throb- 
bing strains, catching the breath, tingling the nerves 
and turning dull flesh to pulsing ecstasy. 

To the fandango came a flower of a far-off French- 
American metropolis, strangely listless ; and here felt 
her blood slowly transmute to wine and every nerve 
become a harp-string to make sad music for her soul. 

Small wonder that Armijo stood speechless in the 
sight of such a one as she, and forgot to press his 
questioning as to four who had somewhere left that 
wagon train; small wonder that he gave no heed to 
men in the presence of this exotic flower not yet un- 
folded, in whose veins the French blood of the mother 
coursed with the Saxon of the father, and played 
strange and wondrous pranks in delicate features, 
vivacious eyes, and hidden whimsicalities now begin- 
ning to peek forth. 

The coarse sensuality of the governor's face re- 
vealed his thoughts to all the room; his eyes never 
had kno'^n the need to mask the sheerness of their 



296 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

greedy passion, and in such a moment could not dis- 
semble. What man like him, in his place and power, 
with his nature, would glance twice at a lazy, dirty 
Indian looking in through the open door, or know 
that the murder beast was tearing at its moral fetters 
in the Delaware's seething soul? Without again 
taking his burning eyes from the woman before him 
the governor tossed, by force of habit, a copper coin 
through the door, alms to a beggar to bring him luck 
from heaven to further his plans from hell. Nor did 
he know the magazine his contemptuous gift had set 
aflame, nor see the convulsive struggle between the 
Delaware and three other Indians. The guard 
laughed sneeringly at the fight they made, three 
to one, over a single piece of copper: Who was to 
know that they fought over a hollow piece of steel, 
charged twice times three with leaden death? Who 
was to read the desperation in that furious struggle, 
where a beast-man fought like a fiend against his 
closest friends? The struggling four reeled and 
stumbled from the house, leading away a fiery tempest 
and faded into the crooning night. That open door 
nearly had been an Open Door, indeed! 

Within the room the vivacity died in the woman's 
eyes, the whimsicalities drew back in sudden panic 
at the beast look on the governor's face; the swing 
was gone from the strumming music, the rhythm from 
the swaying dance. At once the festive room was 
a pit of slime, the smiling faces but mocking masks, 
and the dark shadow of a vulture descended like a 
suffocating gas. Like a flash the wall dissolved to 
show a long, clean trail, winding from Yesterday into 



SANTA FE 297 



Tomorrow; restful glades and creeks of shining sands, 
windswept prairies and a clear, blue sky; verdant 
glades and miles of flowers — and a tall, dark youth 
with smiling face, who worshiped reverently with 
tender eyes. She drew herself up as white streaks 
crossed her crimson cheeks like some darting rapier 
blade, and, bowing coldly to the pompous governor, 
stood rigidly erect and stared for a full half-minute 
into his astonished eyes, and made them fall. De- 
liberately and with unutterable scorn and loathing 
she turned from him to her father and her uncle, 
who forthwith shattered the absurd rules of pomp 
by showing him their broad backs and leaving at 
once. The room hushed as they walked toward the 
door, but no man stayed them, for on their faces there 
blazed the sign of Death. 

Armijo, still staring after them, waved his hand 
and three men slipped out by another door, to follow 
and to learn what sanctuary that flower might choose. 
As he wheeled about and snapped a profane order the 
fiddlers and strummers stumbled into their stammer- 
ing music; the dance went on again, with ragged 
rhythm, Hke an automaton out of gear. 

Down the dark street rumbled the Dearborn, rock- 
ing perilously, the clatter of the running horses filling 
the narrow way with clamor. Sprinting at top speed 
behind it came barefoot soldiers : And then a human 
avalanche burst from a pitch dark passageway. The 
Dearborn rocked on and turned a corner; the soldiers 
groped like blinded, half-stunned swimmers and as 
the secretive moments passed, they stumbled to their 
feet and staggered back again with garbled tales of 



298 ''BRING ME HIS EARS" 

prowling monsters, and crossed themselves continu- 
ously. About the time the frightened soldiers reached 
the house they had set out from, four Indians crept 
along an adobe wall and knocked a signal on the 
studded planks of a heavy, warehouse door. There 
came no creaking from its well-oiled hinges as it 
slowly opened, stopped, and swiftly shut again, and 
left the dark and smelly courtyard empty. 



CHAPTER XIX 



THE RE^NDE^ZVOUS 



ENOCH BIRDSALL stared in amazement at the 
four he had admitted, despite the remembrance 
of the names they had whispered through the crack of 
the partly opened door, the light from a single candle 
making gargoyles of their hideously painted faces, 
Alonzo Webb was peering along the barrel of a new- 
fangled Colt, his eyes mere pin-points of concentra- 
tion, his breathing nearly suspended. 

Hank's low, throaty laughter filled the dim build- 
ing and he slapped Tom on the shoulder. " Didn't 
I say I could fix us up so our own mothers wouldn't 
know us?" he demanded. 

"God help us!" said Enoch in hopelessly inade- 
quate accents as he groped behind him for his favorite 
cask. He seated himself with great deliberation. 
"When Turley's man Allbright brought aroun' yer 
rifles in a packload o' hay, I knowed we'd be seein' 
ye soon; an' he told us plain that four Injuns had 
left 'em with him. But ; h — 1 ! " 

Alonzo had cautiously put away the Colt and was 
readjusting his facial expression to suit the changed 
conditions. Then he suddenly leaned back against a 
bale of tobacco leaf, jammed an arm tightly against 
his mouth, and laughed until he was limp. 

Zeb Houghton glared at him in offended dignity, 
299 



goo "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

not knowing just what to say, but determined to say 
something. He felt embarrassed and slightly huffed. 
"Caravan have airy trouble arter we left it?" he 
asked. 

"Trouble?" queried Enoch, a wise grin wreathing 
his face. "Some o* us made more profits this year 
than we ever did afore. Soon's we found thar warn't 
no custom guard ter meet us at Cold Spring, thanks 
ter them Texans, we sent some riders ahead from 
th* ford o' th' Canadian, an' Woodson held th' cara- 
van thar in camp fer a couple o' days. Them greaser 
rancheros air half starved 'most all year 'round an' 
they jumped at th' chance ter earn some good U. S. 
gold. Some o' us had quite some visitors one night 
an' some o' th' waggins, ourn among 'em, shore 
strayed away from th' encampment an' got lost in 
th' hills. He had said somethin' 'bout not wantin* 
to waste so much time, an' o' takin' a short-cut; an' 
everybody war so excited about bein' so clost ter 
Santer Fe, an' by this time used ter folks goin' on 
ahead, that we warn't hardly missed. Them that did 
miss us soon forgot it. We're ahead five hundred 
dollars a waggin, besides th' other imposts an' th* 
salve money; our waggins air waitin' fer us when 
we go back, an* our goods air comin' in from th* 
ranchos in carretas an' by pack mule, under hay, hoja 
an' faggots, an' other stuff. Thar's them two axles 
o' Joe Cooper's that he war so anxious about back 
at th' Grove an' at every stream we had ter cross. 
Thar empty now, but thar war plumb full o' high- 
class contraband when they got here. Woodson slung 
*em under one o' his waggins that come through on 



THE RENDEZVOUS 501 

th* reg'lar trail, an' brought 'em In. Over thar's 
what's left o' your stuff." 

" Have you fellers looked in a glass yit ? " demanded 
Alonzo, taking a mirror from the wall. " Hyar, Boyd, 
whichever ye air, see what ye look like." 

The passing of the mirror and the candle was the 
cause of much hilarity, and the room was filled with 
subdued merriment until there came a peculiar knock 
on the massive door. The candle flame struggled 
under a box while voices murmured at the portal, 
and then there came a cautious shuffling of feet until 
the box was removed. 

Joe Cooper's curious glance became a stare and 
his jaw dropped. Tearing his eyes from the faces 
of the villainous four he used them to ask a ques- 
tion of the grinning Enoch which his lips were in- 
capable of framing. 

Enoch looked at the four. " One o' ye, who knows 
who's who, interduce yer friends ter Mr. Cooper, o* 
St. Louis, Missoury," he suggested. 

Hank shoved Jim Ogden a step forward. "This 
'Rapahoe is Jim Ogden, o' Bent's Fort an' th' Rockies; 
this other un is Zeb Houghton, o' th' Louisiana Pur- 
chase, Mexico an' Texas; hyar's Tom Boyd, hopin' 
ter save his ear-tabs; an' I'm — " from his mouth 
sounded the twang of a bowstring. 

Uncle Joe sank down on a pile of smuggled Mack- 
inaw blankets, shoved a cigar in his mouth, lit it and 
took several puffs before he slammed it on the floor 
and crushed it with his foot. Then he recovered him- 
self, joyously shook hands all around and started a 
conversation that scorned the flying minutes. Dur- 



302 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

ing- a lull Alonzo looked shrewdly at the cheerful 
Indians and put his thoughts into words. 

" Boys, anythin' we've got is yourn fer th' askin*," 
he slowly said ; " but I'd hate ter reckon it war through 
me an' Enoch that ye lost yer lives, an' yer ears. We 
all war clost friends in Independence an' on th' trail. 
Clost friends o' yourn air goin' ter be watched like 
sin from now on. Tom Boyd an' his friends left th' 
caravan ter go ter Bent's — an' a passel o' greasers 
went arter 'em hot foot. Mebby th' first gang didn't 
git ter Bent's — an' it's shore th' greasers ain't showed 
up yit — not one o' them. Bad as Armijo is he ain't 
no fool by a danged sight. Fer yer own sakes ye 
better stay with Armstrong till ye leave th' city. Now 
that I've warned ye, I don't give a cuss what ye do; 
yer welcome ter stay hyar till yer bones rot — an' ye 
know it." 

Tom nodded. "Yer right, Alonzo. I just got a 
brand new reason fer livin' till th' return caravan gits 
past th' Arkansas. Patience Cooper has got to go 
with it; she ain't a-goin' ter spend no winter hyar, 
if / kin help it — an' if she does stay, then I do, too, 
ears or no ears." His face tensed, his eyes gleaming 
with hatred through the paint and dirt. "I come 
nigh ter commitin' murder tonight. 'Twasn't my fault 
that I didn't." 

Hank clapped him on the shoulder and turned to 
Uncle Joe. " We war all a-lookin' in at th' fandango," 
he explained. "It war a mighty clost shave fer th* 
sheep-stealin' shepherd o' Chavez rancho, that growed 
up ter be governor. If 'twarn't fer th' gal I'd never 
'a' grabbed Boyd." 



THE RENDEZVOUS 303 

Uncle Joe shook his head. "There'll be trouble 
comin* out o' that," he declared. "We couldn't do 
nothin* else, but Armijo'U never rest till he wipes 
out th' insult o' our turnin' our backs on him an' leavin' 
like we did. An' did ye see th' look she gave him? 
D — d if it wasn't worth th' trip from Missouri to see 
it! Us Americans ain't loved a whole lot out here, 
an' them blessed Texans has gone an' made things 
worse. I wish we all were rollin' down to th' Crossin'. 
Patience is goin' back. I've argued that out, anyhow; 
fight up to th' handle ! " 

" Get her out of town now" urged Tom, wrigghng 
forward on his box. "Us four'll whisk her up to 
Bent's, an' jine ye at th' Crossin'." 

" If we do that her father will have to leave, too,'* 
replied Uncle Joe; "an' he's stubborn as a mule, 
Adam is. He says it'll be forgotten, an' if we make 
a play like that it'll raise th' devil." 

"When her safety is at stake?" sharply demanded 
Tom. 

" He says she ain't in no danger. Him an' Armijo 
ts real friendly. Adam is th' one man th' Americans 
in this town depend on ter git 'em a little justice. 
I've been arguin' with him tonight, an' I aim to keep 
on arguin' ; but he's set. I know Adam." 

Tom cursed and arose to his feet. "An' / know 
Armijo! I know his vile history like a book, for I 
took pains to learn it. His whole career is built on 
treachery, sheep-stealin', double-dealin' and assassina- 
tion. He robbed Chavez of thousands of sheep — • 
even stealing them and selling them back to their 
rightful owner. He sold one little flock back to 



504 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Chavez over a dozen times, an' had stolen it from 
him in th' beginnin'. Then he dealt monte and made 
a pile. Then he was made chief custom house officer 
in this town, got caught at some of his tricks an' 
kicked out. Governor Perez put another man in his 
place. The condition of politics in Mexico worked in 
Armijo's favor and he stirred up a ferment, headed 
a conspiracy, raised a force of about a thousand Mexi- 
cans an' Pueblo Indians up at La Canada, and when 
Perez moved against him Perez's troops went over 
to Armijo and the old governor had to flee to this 
town, and out of it on th' jump. With him went a 
score or so of his personal friends; but the next day 
the little party was caught, more than a dozen of 
them put to death, an' Perez was murdered in the 
outskirts of this town and his body dragged around 
through the streets. Armijo had not shown his hand 
openly and the new governor was one of the active 
leaders of the insurrection. This did not suit Armijo, 
who was playing for big stakes, and he started an- 
other revolution, adopted Federalism for a cloak, 
drove the insurgent governor from the city, later shot 
him and, after declaring himself governor, had his 
appointment made official by the Federal government 
at Mexico City, and ever since has played tyrant 
without a check. That's Adam Cooper's so-called 
friend. That's the man he trusts. God help Adam; 
an' God help Armijo if he harms Patience Cooper!" 
His friends nodded, for they knew that he spoke 
the truth; and Uncle Joe thoughtlessly lit another 
cigar before he remembered its make. "Adam's last 
cent is sunk out here," he remarked. "He says he 



THE RENDEZVOUS 305; 

» — 

ain't goin' to turn himself inter a pauper an' flee for 
his life just because his fool brother is a-scared of 
shadows. He says th' beast was drunk tonight an*^ 
didn't know what he was doin'." 

Tom spread out his hands helplessly, and then 
clenched them. He paced a few turns and stopped 
again. "All right, Uncle Joe; he's her father and 
he's backin' his best judgment. I'm an outsider an' 
have nothin' to say. Boys," he said, looking at his 
three hunter friends, "we got work ter do. We got 
ter watch Patience Cooper every minute that she's 
out o' th' house. Thar's too much at stake fer us to 
rendezvous hyar, we'll stay at Armstrong's. Enoch, 
git our rifles over thar as soon as ye kin. I want 
another repeatin' pistol, in a leather case, to hang^ 
under mj'' shirt, below my left arm-pit. Thank th' 
Lord that Turley's plantin' a relay fer us up in th* 
mountains ; I'm bettin' we'll need it bad." He looked 
at Hank. "Bet it's eighty mile to that place, ain't 
it?" 

. "Th' way we come it is," replied the hunter. "I 
know a straighter trail that ain't got so many people 
livin' along it. It's twenty mile shorter, but harder 
travelin'." 

"If thar's anybody at Bent's ranch on th' Purga- 
toire, we might pick up a re-mount thar," muttered 
Tom. "That'd give us fresh bosses fer th' last ninety 
miles to th' fort; but we'll have ter cross th' wagon 
road ter git thar." 

"We'll use that fer th' second bar'l," said Hank. 
" I know a better way, over an old Ute trail leadin*^ 
toward th' Bayou Salade; but we'll have bosses at 



5o6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" ^ 

Bent's ranch if I kin git word ter Holt, Carson or 
Bill Bent. We better go 'round an' see Armstrong 
right away; he may know o' somebody that's goin' 
up on th' trail through Raton Pass. He'll do anythin' 
fer me." 

" Cover th' candle," said Tom. " Give us our rifles; 
we kin carry 'em all right at this time o' night, with 
everybody stayin' indoors on account o' th' Texans. 
Any time ye have news fer us, Enoch, an' can't git 
it ter Armstrong's, set a box outside th* door." 

" It'll be stole," said Enoch, grinning. 

"Then set somethin' else out." 

"That'll be stole, too." 

"What will?" 

"Anythin' we put out." 

"God help us!" ejaculated Uncle Joe. "Try a. 
busted bottle." 

"Glass?" laughed Alonzo, derisively. "No good. 
If you kin think o' anythin' that won't be stole, I 
shore want to larn o' it." He considered a moment. 
"Hyar! If I git flour on my elbow an' brush ag'in 
th' door, we got news fer ye. I don't think they kin 
steal that, not all o' it, anyhow ! " 

Enoch nodded. "If thar's any news we'll git it. 
This is th' meetin' place o' most o' th' Americans 
hyar. Thar banded purty clost together an* have 
made Armijo change his tune a couple o' times. Onct 
they war accused o' conspiracy ag'in th' government, 
which war a danged lie, an' th' scarecrow troops war 
ordered out ag'in 'em; but we put up such a fierce 
showin' that Armijo climbed down from his high hoss 
an' nothin' come o' it except hard feelin's. That'f 



THE RENDEZVOUS 307 

one o' th' reasons, I reckon, why Adam Cooper ain't 
worryin' as much as he might about his dater's safety- 
An' lookin' at it from a reasonable standpoint, I'm 
figgerin' he's right. Boyd, hyar, would worry power- 
ful if she got a splinter in her finger." 

After the laughter had subsided and a little more 
talk the four plainsmen slipped out of the building 
and cautiously made their way to Armstrong's store 
and dwelling where, after a whispered palaver at the 
heavy door, they were admitted by the sleepy owner 
of the premises and shown where they could spread 
their blankets. In the faint light of the eandle they 
saw other men lying about on the hard floor, who 
stirred, grumbled a little, and went back to sleep 
again. 

When they awakened the next morning they recog- 
nized two old friends from Bent's Fort, a trader from 
St. Vrain's, and an American hunter and trapper from 
the Pueblo near the junction of the Arkansas and Boil- 
ing Spring Rivers. The simple breakfast was soon 
dispatched and gossip and news exchanged, and then 
Hank led aside a hunter named Hatcher, who stood 
high at Bent's Fort, and earnestly conversed with 
him. In a few moments Hank turned, looked reas- 
suringly at Tom and smiled. Bent's little ranch on 
the Purgatoire was being worked and improved and 
there would be men and a relay of horses there, pro- 
viding that the Utes overlooked the valley in the 
meantime. 

All that day they remained indoors and when night 
came they slipped out, one by one, and drifted back 
to the corral v^rhere the atejo still remained. They^ 



3o8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

had lost their rifles, were sullen and taciturn from 
too much drink, and paid no attention to the knowing 
^rins of the friendly muleteers. Thenceforth they 
drew only glances of passing interest on the streets, 
no one giving a second thought to the stoHd, dulled 
and sodden wrecks in their filthy, nondescript ap- 
parel; and the guard at the palacio gave them cigar- 
ettes rolled in corn husks for running errands, and 
found amusement in playing harmless tricks on them. 

At the barracks they were less welcome, Don Jesu 
and Robideau, both subordinates of Salezar, scarcely 
tolerating them; while Salezar, himself, kicked them 
from in front of the door and threatened to cut off 
their ears if he catight them hanging around the build- 
ing. They accepted the kicks as a matter of course 
and thenceforth shrunk from his approach; and he 
sneered as he thought of their degradation from once 
proud and vengeful warriors of free and warlike tribes, 
to fawning beggars with no backbone. But even he, 
when the need arose, made use of them to fetch and 
carry for him and to do menial tasks about the mud 
house he called his home. He had seen many of their 
kind and wasted no thought on them. 

He was the same cruel and brutal tyrant who had 
herded almost two hundred half-starved and nearly 
exhausted men over that terrible trail down the val- 
ley of the Rio Grande, and his soldiers stood in mortal 
terror of him and meekly accepted treatment that in 
any other race would have swiftly resulted in his 
death. He had played a prominent part in the captufe 
and herding of the Texan prisoners and loved to boast 
of it at every opportunity, using some of the incidents 



THE RENDEZVOUS 309 

as threats to his unfortunate soldiers. Tom and his 
friends witnessed scenes that made their blood boil 
more than it boiled over the indignities they elected 
to suffer, and sometimes it was all they could do to 
refrain from killing him in his tracks. At the barracks 
he was a roaring lion, but at the pdlacio, in the sight 
and hearing of the chief jackal, he reminded them of 
a whipped cur. 



CHAPTER XX 

TOM R^N^GES 

AS THE days passed while waiting for the return 
^of the caravan to Missouri, Patience rode abroad 
with either her uncle or her father, sometimes in the 
Dearborn, but more often in the saddle. She explored 
the ruins of the old church at Pecos, where the Texan 
prisoners had spent a miserable night; the squalid 
hamlets of San Miguel, which she had passed through 
on her way to Santa Fe, and Anton Chico had been 
visited; the miserable little sheep ranchos had been 
investigated and other rides had taken her to other 
outlying districts; but the one she loved best was the 
trail up over the mountain behind Santa Fe. The 
almost hidden pack mules and their towering loads of 
faggots, hoja, hay and other commodities were sights 
she never tired of, although the scars on some of the 
meek beasts once in awhile brought tears to her eyes. 
The muleteers, beneficiaries of her generosity, smiled 
when they saw her and touched their forelocks in 
friendly salutation. 

On the mountain there was one spot of which she 
was especially fond. It was a little gully-like depres- 
sion more than halfway up that seemed to be much 
greener than the rest of the mountain side, and always 
moist. The trees were taller and more heavily leafed 
^and threw a shade which, with the coolness of the 
310 



TOM RENEGES 311 

moist little nook, was most pleasant. It lay not far 
from the rutted, rough and busy trail over the moun- 
tain, which turned and passed below it, the atejos and 
occasional picturesque caballeros on their caparisoned 
horses, passing in review before her and close enough 
to be distinctly seen, yet far enough away to hide 
disillusioning details. The mud houses of the town 
at the foot of the long slope, with their flat roofs, 
looked much better at this distance and awakened 
trains of thought which nearness would have forbid- 
den. It was also an ideal place to eat a lunch and 
she and Uncle Joe or her father made it their turning 
point. 

Her daily rides had given her confidence, and the 
Stares which first had followed her soon changed to 
glances of idle curiosity. Of Armijo she neither had 
seen nor heard anything more and scarcely gave him 
a thought, and the Mexican officers she met saluted 
politely or ignored her altogether. Her uncle still 
harped about Santa Fe being no place for her, but, 
having the assurance that she would return to St. 
Louis with the caravan, was too wise to press the 
matter. His efforts were more strongly bent to get 
his brother to sell out and he had sounded Woodson 
to see if that trader would take over the merchandise. 
Adam Cooper seemed to consider closing out his busi- 
ness and returning to Missouri, but he would not sac- 
rifice it, and there the matter hung, swaying first to 
one side and then to the other. By this time Santa 
Fe had palled on the American merchant and he had 
laid by sufficient capital to start in business in St. 
X-ouis or one of the frontier towns, and his brother was 



512 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

confident that if the stock could be disposed of for a 
reasonable sum that Adam would join the returning 
caravan. 

It was in the storehouse of Webb and Birdsall one 
night, about a week before the wagons were being put 
in shape for the return trip that the matter was set- 
tled. Disturbing rumors were floating up from the 
south about a possible closing of the ports of entry 
of the Department of New Mexico, due to the dangers 
to Mexican traders on the long trail because of the 
presence of Texan raiding parties. The Texans had 
embittered the feelings of the Mexicans against the 
Americans, whom they knew to be universally in favor 
of the Lone Star Republic, and the Texan raids of this 
summer were taken as a forecast of greater and more 
determined raids for the following year. 

When Adam and Joe Cooper joined the little group 
in the warehouse on this night, they met two Mis- 
sourians who had just returned from Chihuahua with 
a train of eleven wagons. These traders, finding busi- 
ness so good in the far southern market, and having 
made arrangements with some Englishmen there, who 
were high in favor with the Federal authorities, were 
anxious to make another trip if they could load their 
wagons at a price that would make the journey worth 
while. They were certain that the next year would 
find the Mexican ports closed against the overland 
traffic, eager to clean up what they could before winter 
set in and to sell their outfits and return by water. 
They further declared that a tenseness was develop- 
ing between the Federal government and the United 
States, carefully hidden at the present, which would 



^ TOM RENEGES 31^ 

make war between the two countries a matter of a 
short time. Texas was full of people who were urging 
annexation to the United States, and their numbers 
were rapidly growing; and when the Lone Star repub- 
lic became a state in the American federation, war 
would inevitably follow. Some in the circle dissented 
wholly or in part, but all admitted that daily Mexico 
was growing more hostile to Americans. 

"Wall, we ain't forcin' our opinions on nobody," 
said one of the Chihuahua traders. " We believe 'em 
ourselves, an' we want ter make another trip south, 
Adam, we've heard ye ain't settled in yer mind about 
stayin' through another winter hyar. We'll give ye 
a chanct ter clear out; what ye got in goods, an' what 
ye want fer 'em lock, stock an' bar'l?" 

"What they cost us here in Santa Fe," said Uncle 
Joe quickly, determined to force the issue. " We just 
brought in more'n two wagon loads, an' what we had 
on hand will go a long way toward helpin' you fill your 
wagons. Come around tomorrow, look th' goods over, 
an' if they suit you, we'll add twelve cents a pound for 
th' freight charge across th' prairies an' close 'em out 
to you. Ain't that right, Adam?" he demanded so 
sharply and truculently that his brother almost sur- 
rendered at once. Seeing that they had an ally in 
Uncle Joe the traders pushed the matter and after a 
long, haggling discussion, they offered an additional 
five per cent of the purchase price for a quick de- 
cision. 

Uncle Joe accepted it on the spot and nudged his 
brother, who grudgingly accepted the terms if the 
traders would buy the two great wagons and their: 



314 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

teams. This they promised to do if they could find 
enough extra goods to fill them, and they soon left 
the warehouse for fear of showing their elation. They 
knew where they could sell the wagons at a profit 
with a little manipulation on the part of their Eng- 
lish friend. 

Elated by the outcome of his protracted arguments. 
Uncle Joe hurried around to Armstrong's store and 
told the news to Tom and his three friends. 

"We can get them goods off our hands in two 
days," he exulted; "an' th' caravan will be ready to 
leave inside a week. Don't say a word to nobody, 
boys. We'll try to sneak Adam and Patience out of 
town so Armijo won't miss 'em till they're on th* 
trail. Them Chihuahua traders won't disturb th' goods 
before we start for home because they got to get a 
lot more to fill their wagons, an* th' merchandise is 
safer in th' store than it will be under canvas. I wish 
th' next week was past!" 

To wish the transaction kept a secret and to keep 
it a secret were two different things. The Chihuahua 
traders found more merchants who felt that they 
would be much safer in Missouri than in Santa Fe, 
and the south-bound wagon train was stocked three 
days before time for the Missouri caravan to leave. 
There were certain customs regulations relating to 
goods going through to El Paso and beyond, certain 
involved and exacting forms to be obtained and filled 
out, much red tape to be cut with golden shears and 
many palms to be crossed with specie. Uncle Joe 
and his brother found that the matter of transferring 
their goods to the traders took longer than they ex- 



TOM RENEGES 315 

pected and were busy in the store for several days, 
leaving- Patience to make the most of the short time 
remaining of her stay in the capital of the Depart- 
ment of New Mexico. 

At last came the day when the east-bound caravan 
was all but ready to start, certain last minute needs 
arising that kept it in the camp outside the city until 
the following morning. Busily engaged in its organ- 
izing and in numerous personal matters, they told 
her to stay in the city. Uncle Joe and his brother 
could not accompany Patience on another ride up the 
mountain and they understood that she would not 
attempt one; but she changed her mind and left the 
town in the care and guidance of a Mexican employee 
of her father, in whom full trust was reposed. She 
rode out an hour earlier than was her wont, and when 
a Delaware Indian called at the house to beg alms 
from the generous seiiorita he found the building open 
and empty. Knowing that the last night was to be 
spent in the encampment and thinking that she had 
gone there, as he understood was the plan, he gave 
little thought to this and wandered back to the Plaza 
Puhlica to look for his companions. They were not 
in sight and he went over to the barracks to seek 
them there. 

Don Jesu swaggered along the side of the build- 
ing, caught sight of the disreputable Delaware and 
contemptuously waved him away. " Out of my sight, 
you drunken beggar and son of a beggar ! If I catch 
you here once more I'll hang you by your thumbs! 
Vamoose!" 

The Delaware stiffened a little and seemed re- 



Jlijj 



3i6 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

luctant to obey the command. "I seek my friends," 
he replied in a guttural polyglot. " I do no harm." 

Don Jesu's face flamed and he drew his sword 
and brought the flat of the blade smartly across the 
Indian's shoulder. "But once more I tell you to 
vamoose! Pronto!" He drew back swiftly and threw 
the weapon into position for a thrust, for he had seen 
a look flare up in the Indian's eyes that warned him. 

The Delaware cringed, muttered something and 
slunk back along the wall and as he reached the cor- 
ner of the building he bumped solidly into Robideau, 
who at that moment turned it. The foot of the sec- 
ond officer could not travel far enough to deliver the 
full weight of the kick, but the impact was enough 
to send the Indian sprawling. As he clawed to hands 
and knees, Robideau stood over him, sword in hand, 
threats and curses pouring from him in a burning 
stream. The Indian paused a moment, got control 
over his rage, ran off a short distance on hands and 
knees and, leaping to his feet, dashed around the 
corner of the building to the hilarious and exultant 
jeers of the sycophantic soldiers. He barely escaped 
bumping into a huge, screeching and ungainly carreta 
being driven by a soldier and escorted by a squad of 
his fellows under the personal command of Salezar. 
The lash of a whip fell across his shoulders and cut 
through blanket and shirt. The second blow was 
short and before another could be aimed at him, the 
Delaware had darted into a passage-way between two 
buildings. 

The officer laughed loudly, nodded at the scowling 
driver and again felt of the canvas cover of the cart; 



TOM RENEGES 31/ 

"The city is full of vermin," he chuckled. "There's 
not much difference between Texans and Americans, 
and these sotted Indians. Tomorrow we will be well 
rid of many of the gringo dogs and we will attend 
to these strange Indians when this present business 
has been taken care of. But there is one gringo who 
will remain with us!" He laughed until he shook. 
^'Captain Salezar today; Colonel, tomorrow; quien 
sahef" 

He looked at two of his soldiers, squat, powerful 
half-breeds, and laughed again. "Jose is a strong 
man. Manuel is a strong man. Perhaps tomorrow 
we will give each one of them two Indians and see 
which can f^og the longest and the hardest; but," he 
warned, his face growing hard and cruel, "the man 
who bungles his work today will have no ears 
tomorrow! " 

The Delaware, his right hand thrust into his shirt 
under the dirty blanket, crouched in the doorway and 
was making the fight of his life against the murderous 
rage surging through him. The words of the officer 
reached him well enough, but in his fury were unin- 
telligible. Wild, mad plans for revenge were crowd- 
ing through his mind, mixed and jumbled until they 
were nothing more than a mental kaleidoscope, and 
constantly thrown back by the frantic struggles of 
reason. He had nursed the thought of revenge, mile 
after mile, day after day, across the prairies and the 
desert; but for the last half month he had fought it 
back for the safety his freedom might give to the 
woman he loved. 

The grotesque, ungainly cart rumbled and bumped. 



3i8 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

clacked and screeched down the street, farther and 
farther away and still he crouched in the doorway. 
The sounds died out, but still he remained in the 
sheltering niche. Finally his hand emerged from 
under the blanket and fell to his side, and a wretched 
Indian slouched down the street toward the Plaza 
Puhlica. In command of himself once more he shuf- 
fled over to the guard house in the palacio and leaned 
against the wall, the welt on his back burning him 
to the soul, as Armijo's herald stepped from the main 
door, blew his trumpet and announced the coming of 
the governor. Pedestrians stopped short and bowed 
as the swarthy tyrant stalked out to his horse, 
mounted and rode away, his small body-guard clat- 
tering after him. The Delaware, to hide the expres- 
sion on his face, bowed lower and longer than anyone 
and then slyly produced a plug of smuggled Kentucky 
tobacco and slipped it to the sergeant of the guard. 

"They'll catch you yet, you thief of the North," 
warned the sergeant, shaking a finger at the stolid 
Indian. "And when they do you'll hang by the 
thumbs, or lose your ears." He grinned and shoved 
the plug into his pocket, not seeming to be frightened 
by becoming an accessory after the fact. " Our gov- 
ernor is in high spirits today, and our captain's face 
is like the mid-day sun. He is a devil with the women, 
is Armijo and his sefiora doesn't care a snap. Lucky 
man, the governor." He laughed and then looked 
curiously at his silent companion. "Where do you 
come from, and where do you go?" 

The Delaware waved lazily toward the North. 
"Sefior Bent. I return soon." 



TOM RENEGES 319 

" Look to it that you do, or the calahozo will swallow 
you up in one mouthful. I hear much about the 
palacio" He shook his finger and his head, both 
earnestly. 

The Delaware drew back slightly and glanced 
around. Drawing his blanket about him he turned 
and slouched away, leaving the plaza by the first 
street, and made his slinking and apologetic way to 
Armstrong's, there to wait until dark. His three 
friends were there already and were rubbing their 
pistols and rifles, elated that the morrow would find 
them on the trail again. The two Arapahoes planned 
to accompany the caravan as far as the Crossing of 
the Arkansas and there turn back toward Bent's Fort, 
following the northern branch of the trail along the 
north bank of the river. 

" Better jine us, Tom," urged Jim Ogden. " You 
an' Hank an' us will stay at th' fort till frost comes, 
an' then outfit thar an' spend th' winter up in Middle 
Park." 

" Or we kin work up 'long Green River an' winter 
in Hank's old place," suggested Zeb Houghton, rub- 
bing his hands. " Thar'U be good company in Brown's 
Hole ; an' mebby a scrimmage with th' thievin' Crows 
if we go up that way. Yer nose will be outer jint iti 
th' Missouri settlements. I know a couple o' beaver 
streams that ain't been teched yit." He glanced 
shrewdly at the young man. "It's good otter an* 
mink country, too. We'll build a good home camp 
an' put up some lean-tos at th' fur end o' th' furtherest 
trap lines. Th' slopes o' th' little divides air tliick 
with timber fer our marten traps, an' th' tops air barew 



B20 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Fox sets up thar will git plenty o' pelts. I passed 
through it two year ago an' can't hardly wait ter git 
back ag'in. It's big enough fer th' hull four o' us." 

"Thar's no money in beaver at a dollar a plew," 
commented Hank, watching his partner out of the 
corner of his eye. "Time war when it war worth 
somethin', I tell ye; but them days air past — an' th' 
beaver, too, purty nigh. I remember one spring 
when I got five dollars a pound fer beaver from ol' 
Whiskey Larkin. Met him on th' headwaters o' th' 
Platte. He paid me that then an' thar, an' then had 
ter pack it all th' way ter Independence. But it's 
different with th' other skins, an' us four shore could 
have a fine winter together." 

"It's alius excitin' ter me ter wait till th' pelts 
prime, settin' in a good camp with th' traps strung 
out, smokin' good terbaker an* eatin' good grub," 
said Ogden, reminiscently. "Then th' frosts set in, 
snow falls an' th' cold comes ter stay; an' we web it 
along th' lines settin' traps fer th' winter's work. By 
■gosh ! What ye say, Tom ? " 

Tom was studying the floor, vainly trying to find a 
way to please his friends and to follow the commands 
of an urging he could not resist. For him the mating 
call had come, and his whole nature responded to it 
with a power which would not be denied. On one 
hand called the old life, the old friends to whom he 
owed so much; a winter season with them in a good 
fur country, with perfect companionship and the work 
he loved so dearly; on the other the low, sweet voice 
of love, calHng him to the One Woman and to trails 
iuntrod. The past was dead, living only in memory; 



TOM RENEGES 32r 

the future stirred with life and was rich in promise.^ 
He sighed, slowly shook his head and looked up with 
moist eyes, glancing from one eager face to another. 

"I'm goin' back ter Missoury," he said in a low 
voice. "Thar's a question I got ter ask, back thar, 
when th' danger's all behind an' it kin be asked fair. 
If th' answer is *no' I promise ter jine ye at Bent's 
or foller after. Leave word fer me if ye go afore I 
git thar. But trappin' is on its last legs, an' th* 
money's slippin' out o' it, like fur from a pelt in th* 
spring; 'though I won't care a dang about that if I 
has ter turn my back on th' settlements." His eyes 
narrowed and his face grew hard. "Jest now I'm 
worryin' about somethin' else. Here I am in Santer 
Fe, passin' Armijo an' Salezar every day, an' have 
ter turn my back on one of th' big reasons fer comin' 
hyar. Thar's a new welt acrost my back that burns 
through th' flesh inter my soul like a livin' fire. 
Thar's an oath I swore on th' memory of a close 
friend who war beaten an' starved an' murdered ; an' 
now I'm a lyin' dog, an' my spirit's turned ter water! " 
He leaped up and paced back and forth across the 
little room like a caged panther. 

Hank cleared his throat, his painted face terrible 
to look upon. "Hell!" he growled, squirming on 
his box. "Them as know ye, Tom Boyd, know ye 
ain't neither dog ner liar! Takes a good man ter 
stand what ye have, day arter day, feelin' like you 
do, an' keep from chokin' th' life outer him. We've 
all took his insults, swallered 'em whole without no 
salt ; ye wouldn't say all o' us war dogs an' liars, wouldi 
ye? Tell ye what; we've been purty clost, you an*j 



g22 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

me — suppose I slip back from th' Canadian an' git 
his ears fer ye? 'Twon't be no trouble, an' I won't 
be gone long. Reckon ye'd feel airy better then?" 

Zeb moved forward on his cask. " That's you, 
Hank Marshall ! " he exclaimed eagerly. " I'm with 
ye! He spit in my face two days ago, an' I want 
his ha'r. Good fer you, ol' beaver ! " 

For the next hour the argument waxed hot, one 
against three, and Armstrong had to come in and 
caution them twice. It was Jim Ogden who finally 
changed sides and settled the matter in Tom's favor. 

" Hyar ! We're nigh fightin' over a dog that ain't 
worth a cuss ! " he exclaimed. " Mebby Tom will be 
comin' back ter Bent's afore winter sets in. Then we 
kin go ter Green River by th' way o' this town, stop- 
pin' hyar a day ter git Salezar's ears. Won't do Tom 
no good if us boys git th' skunk. If ye don't close yer 
traps, cussed if I won't go out an' git him now, an' 
then hell shore will pop afore th' caravan gits away. 
Ain't ye got no sense, ye blood-thirsty Injuns?" 



I 



p 



CHAPTER XXI 

THE KIDNAPPING 

ATIENCE and her Mexican escort rode out of 
the town along the trail to Taos Valley, the 
road leading up the mountain and past her favorite 
retreat. She could not resist the cool of the morning 
hours and the temptation to pay one more visit to 
the little niche in the mountain side. The few fare- 
well calls that she had to make could wait until the 
afternoon. They were duties rather than pleasures 
and the shorter she could make them the better she 
would like it. She passed the mud houses of the 
soldiers and soon left the city behind. At inter- 
vals on the wretched road she met and smiled at 
the friendly muleteers and gave small coins to the 
toddling Mexican and Indian children before the 
wretched hovels scattered along the way. Well be- 
fore noon she reached the little nook and unpacked 
the lunch she had brought along. Sharing it with 
her humble escort, who stubbornly insisted on taking 
his portion to one side and eating by himself, she 
spread her own lunch under her favorite tree and 
leisurely enjoyed it as she watched the mules passing 
below her along the trail. This last view of the dis- 
tant town and the mountain trail enchanted her and 
time slipped by with furtive speed. Far down on 
the road, if it could be called such, bumped and slid 
323 



B24 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

a huge carreta covered with a soiled canvas cover, its 
driver laboring with his four-mule team. The four 
had all they could do to draw the massive cart along 
the rough trail and she smiled as she wondered how 
many mules it would take to pull the heavy vehicle 
if it were well loaded. She tried to picture it with 
the toiling caravan, and laughed aloud at the 
absurdity. 

While she idly watched the carreta and the little 
atejo passing it in the direction of the city, a flash 
far down the trail caught her eye and she made out 
a group of mounted soldiers trotting after an officer, 
whose scabbard dully flashed as it jerked and bobbed 
about. The carreta was more than half way up the 
slope, seeming every moment to be threatened with 
destruction by the shaking it was receiving, when the 
soldiers overtook and passed it. When the squad 
reached the short section of the trail immediately be- 
low her it met an atejo of a dozen heavily-laden mules 
and the arrogant officer waved his sword and ordered 
them off the trail. Mules are deliberate and take 
their own good time, and they also have a natural 
reluctance to forsake a known and comparatively easy 
trail to climb over rocks under the towering packs. 
Their owners tried to lead them aside, although there 
was plenty of room for the troops to pass, but the 
little beasts were stubborn and stuck to the trail. 

Impatiently waiting for perhaps a full minute that 
his conceit might be pampered, the officer drew his 
sword again and peremptorily ordered the trail 
cleared for his passing. The muleteers did their best, 
Jjut it was not good enough for the puffed-up captain. 



THE KIDNAPPING 325 

and he spurred his horse against a faggot-burdened 
animal. The load swayed and then toppled, forcing 
the little burro to its knees and then over on its side, 
the tight girth gripping it as in a vise. The owner 
of the animal stepped quickly forward, a black scowl 
on his face. At his first word of protest the officer 
struck him on the head with the flat of the blade and 
broke into a torrent of curses and threats. The mu- 
leteer staggered back against a huge bowlder and 
bowed his head, his arms hanging limply at his sides. 
The officer considered a moment, laughed contemp- 
tuously and rode on, his rag-tag, wooden-faced squad 
following him closely. 

As the soldiers passed from his sight around a bend 
in the trail the muleteer leaned forward, hand on the 
knife in his belt, and stared malevolently at the rocks 
on the bend; and then hastened to help his two com- 
panions unpack the load of faggots and let the mule 
arise. The little animal did not get up. Both its 
front legs were broken by the rocky crevice into 
which they had been forced. The unfortunate Pueblo 
Indian knelt swiftly at the side of the little beast and 
passed his hands along the slender legs. He shook 
his head sorrowfully and stroked the burro's flank. 
Suddenly leaping to his feet, knife in hand, he took 
two quick steps along the trail, but yielded to his 
clinging and frightened friends and dejectedly walked 
back to the suffering animal. For a moment he stood 
above it and then, changing his grip on the knife, 
leaned quickly over. . 

Patience had seen the whole tragedy and her eyes 
were brimming with tears. As the muleteer ben| 



526 "BRING ME HIS EARS'* 

forward she turned away, sobbing. The throaty mut- 
tering of her guide brought him back to her mind 
and she called him to her. 

" Sanchez ! " she exclaimed, taking a purse from 
her bosom. "Take this money to him. It will buy 
him another burro." 

The Mexican's teeth flashed like pearls and he 
nodded eagerly. In a moment he was clambering 
down the rocky mountain side and reached the trail 
as the noisy carreta lumbered past the waiting atejo. 
He need not have hastened, for each mule had seized 
upon the stop as a valuable moment for resting and 
was lying down under its load. Here was work 
for the angry muleteers, for every animal must be 
unloaded, kicked to its feet and loaded anew, 

Sanchez slid down the last rocky wall, flung up his 
arms and showed the two gold pieces, making a flam- 
boyant speech as he alternately faced the wondering 
muleteer and turned to bow to the slender figure out- 
lined against the somber greens of the mountain nook. 
Handing over the money, he slapped the Indian's 
shoulder, whirled swiftly and clambered back the way 
he had come. 

The Indian seemed dazed at his unexpected good 
fortune, staring at the money in his hand. He 
glanced up toward the mountain niche, raised a hand 
to his forelock, and then pushed swiftly back from 
his eager, curious, crowding friends. They talked 
together at top speed and for the moment forgot all 
about the mules they had so laboriously repacked; 
and when they looked behind them they found they 
had their work to do over again. Again the fortunate 



THE KIDNAPPING 327 

muleteer looked up, his hand slowly rising to repeat 
his thanks; and became a statue in bronze. He saw 
the ragged troops seize his benefactress and leap for 
the guide. Sanchez was no coward and he knew 
what loyalty meant and demanded. He fought like 
a wild beast until the crash of a pistol in the hands 
of the officer sent him staggering on bending legs, 
back, back, back. Reaching the edge of the niche he 
toppled backward, his quivering arms behind him to 
break his fall; and plunged and rolled down the rocky 
slope until stopped by a stunted tree, where he hung 
like a bag of meal. 

Patience's strength, multiplied by terror, availed 
her nothing and soon, bound, gagged and wrapped 
up in blankets, she was carried to the trail and placed 
in the carreta which, its canvas cover again tightly 
drawn, quickly began its jolting way down the trail. 
As it and its escort passed the atejo, now being re- 
packed, the officer scowled about him for a sight of 
the impudent muleteer, but could not see him. 

Salezar stopped his horse : " Where is that Pueblo 
dog?" he demanded. 

" He is so frightened he is running all the way 
home," answered a muleteer. "He has left us to do 
his work for him! Are we slaves that we must serve 
him? Wait till we see him, Sefior Capitan! Just 
you wait ! " He looked at his companion, who nod- 
ded sourly. "Always he is like that, Sefior Capitan." 

Salezar questioned them closely about what they 
had seen, and found that they had been so busy with 
the accursed mules that they had had no time for 
anything else. 



328 "BRING ME HIS EARS'' 

"See that you speak the truth!" he threatened. 
"There is a gringo woman missing from Santa Fe 
and we are seeking her. Her gringo friends are en- 
emies of the Governor, and those who help them also 
are his enemies. Then you have not seen this 
woman?" 

"The more gringos that are missing the louder 
we will sing. We have not seen her, Sefior Capitan. 
We will take care that we do not see her." 

" Did you hear any shooting, then ? " 

" If I did it would be that frightened Pablo, shoot- 
ing at his shadow. He is like that, Pablo is." . 

" Listen well ! " warned Salezar, his beady eyes 
aglint. "There are two kinds of men who do not 
speak; the wise ones, and the ones who have no 
tongues ! " He made a significant gesture in front of 
his mouth, glared down at the two muleteers and^ 
wheeling, dashed down the trail to overtake the 
carreta, where he gloated aloud that his prisoner might 
hear, and know where she was going, and why. 

The two Pueblos listened until the hoofbeats sound- 
ed well down the trail and then scrambled up the 
mountain side like goats, reaching the little nook a» 
Pablo dragged the seriously wounded Mexican over 
the edge. They worked over him quickly, silently, 
listening to his broken, infrequent mutterings and 
after bandaging him as best they could they put him 
on a blanket and carried him to the trail and along it 
until they reached an Indian hovel, where they left 
him in care of a squaw. Returning to the atejo they 
had to repack every mule, but they worked feverishly 
and the work was soon done and the little train plod- 



THE KIDNAPPING 329 

ded on down the trail. At the foot of the mountain 
Pablo said something to his companions, left the trail 
and soon was lost to their sight. 

Meanwhile the carreta, after a journey which was 
a torture, mentally and physically, to its helpless occu- 
pant, reached the town and rumbled up to Salezar's 
house, scraped through the narrow roadway between 
the house and the building next door and stopped in 
the windowless, high-walled courtyard. Three sol- 
diers quickly carried a blanket-swathed burden into 
the house while the others loafed around the entrance 
to the driveway to guard against spying eyes. In a 
few moments the captain came out, briskly rubbing 
his hands, gave a curt order regarding alertness and 
rode away in the direction of the palacio, already a 
colonel in his stimulated imagination. This had been 
a great day in the fortunes of Captain Salezar and 
he was eager for his reward. 

The sentry at the door of the palacio saluted, told 
him that he was waited for and urgently wanted, and 
then stood at attention. Salezar stroked his chin, 
chuckled, and swaggered through the portal. Ten 
minutes later he emerged, walking on air and im- 
patient for the coming of darkness, when his task soon 
would be finished and his promotion assured. 

And while the captain paced the floor of his quar- 
ters at the barracks and dreamed dreams, an honest, 
courageous, and loyal Mexican was fighting against 
death in a little hovel on the mountain side; and a 
Pueblo Indian, stimulated by a queer and jumbled 
mixture of rage, gratitude, revenge, and pity, was 
makirig his slow way, with infinite caution, through. 



'330 



BRING ME HIS EARS' 



the cover north of town. Sanchez in his babbling had 
mentioned the caravan, a gringo name, and the urgent 
need for a warning to be carried. Salezar's name the 
Pueblo already knew far too well, and hated as he 
hated nothing else on earth. The mud-walled pueblos 
of the Valley of Taos were regarded by Salezar as 
rabbit-warrens full of women, provided by Providence 
that his hunting might be good. 



CHAPTER XXII 

• " LOS T^JANOS ! " 

THE encampment of the returning caravan was 
in a little pasture well outside the town and 
it was the scene of bustling activity. Its personnel 
was different from either of the two trains from 
the Missouri frontier, for it was made up of traders 
and travelers from both of the earlier, west-bound 
caravans. Some of the first and second wagon trains 
had gone on to El Paso and Chihuahua, a handful of 
venturesome travelers were to try for the Pacific coast, 
and others of the first two trains had elected to remain 
in the New Mexican capital. While in the two west- 
bound caravans there had been many Mexicans, their 
number now was neghgible. But this returning train 
was larger than either of the other two, carried much 
less freight, a large amount of specie, and would drive 
a large herd of mules across the prairies for sale in 
the Missouri settlements, which would fan the fires 
of Indian avarice all along the trail. 

Uncle Joe and his brother had been busy all day 
doing their own work, catching up odds and ends of 
their Santa Fe connections, and helping friends get 
ready for the long trip, and they had not given much 
thought to Patience, whom they believed to be saying 
her farewells to friends she had made in the city. As 
the afternoon passed and she and her escort had not 
331 



33£ "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

appeared, Uncle Joe became a little uneasy; and as 
the shadows began to reach farther and farther from 
the wagons he mounted his horse and rode ba'ck to 
Santa Fe to find and join her. It was nearly dark 
when he galloped back to the encampment and sought 
his brother, hoping that Patience had made her way 
to the wagons while he had sought for her in town. 
He knew that she had not called on any of her friends 
and that she must have stolen a last ride through the 
environs of the town. The two men were frankly 
frightened and hurriedly made the rounds of the wag- 
ons and then started for the city. It was dark by 
then and as they rode by the last camp-fire of the 
encampment, four villainous Indians loomed up in the 
light of the little blaze and Uncle Joe recognized them 
instantly. He drew up quickly. 

"Have you seen Patience?" he cried, an agony 
of fear in his voice. " We can't find her anywhere ! " 

The Indians motioned for him to go on and they 
followed him and his brother. When a few score 
paces from the fire they stopped and consulted, hung- 
rily fingering the locks of their heavy rifles. While 
they were sketching a plan a Pueblo Indian, following 
the trail to the camp like a speeding shadow, came 
up to them and blurted out his fragmentary tale in a 
mixture of Spanish and Indian. 

" Salezar stole white woman on mountain. Put her 
in carreta and went back to Santa Fe. Tell these 
people, that her friends will know. Salezar, the son 
of a pig, stole her on the mountain." He burst into 
a torrent of words unintelligible and open and shut 
his hands as he raved. 



"LOS TEJANOS!" 333' 

Finally in reply to their hot, close questioning he 
told all he knew, his answers interspersed with stark 
curses for Salezar and pity and anxiety for the angel 
sefiorita. His words bore the undeniable stamp of 
sincerity, fitted in with what the anxious group feared, 
and he was triply bound by the gold pieces crowded 
into his hands. After another conference, not point- 
less now, a plan was hurriedly agreed upon and the 
several parts well studied. The Pueblo was given a 
commission and loaned a horse, and after repeating 
what he was to do, shot away into the darkness. 
Uncle Joe and his brother grudgingly accepted their 
parts, after Tom had shown them they could help in 
no other way, and turned back into the encampment, 
where their hot and eager efforts met with prompt 
help from their closest friends. Alonzo Webb and 
Enoch Birdsall, mounted, led four horses out of the 
west side of the camp and melted into the darkness; 
several hundred yards from the wagons they turned 
the led horses over to four maddened Indians and 
followed them through the night, to enter Santa Fe 
from the south. Not far behind them a cavalcade 
rode along the same route, grim and silent. At the 
little corral where the atejo had put up the Indians 
got the horses which Turley had loaned them, shook 
hands with the two traders and listened as the cara- 
van's horses were led off toward the camp. 

Armstrong answered the knocks on his door and 
admitted the Delaware, listened in amazement to the 
brief, tense statement of fact, strongly endorsed Tom's 
plans, and eagerly accepted his own part. His caller 
slipped out, the door closed, and the sounds of walking 



334 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

horses faded out down the street. A few moments 
later, Armstrong, rifle in hand, slipped out of the house 
and ran southward. 

Captain Salezar, sitting at ease in his adobe house, 
poured himself another drink of aguardiente and rolled 
another corn-husk cigarette. Lighting it from the 
candle he fell to pacing to and fro across the small 
room. As the raw, potent Hquor stimulated his im- 
agination he began to bow to imaginary persons, give 
orders to officers, and to introduce himself as Colonel 
Salezar. From the barracks across the corner of the 
square an occasional burst of laughter rang out, but 
these were becoming more infrequent and less loud. 
He heard the grounding gun-butt of the sentry outside 
his door as the soldier paused before wheeling to re- 
trace his steps over the beat. 

The sentry paced along the narrow driveway and 
stopped at the outer corner of the house to cast an 
envious glance across at the barracks where he knew 
that his friends were engaged in a furtive game of 
monfe, which had started before he had gone on duty 
not a quarter of an hour before. He turned slowly 
to pace back again and then suddenly threw up his 
arms as his world became black. His falling firelock 
was caught as it left his hands, and soon lay at the side 
of its gagged and trussed owner in the blackness 
along the base of a driveway wall. Two figures 
slipped toward the courtyard to the rear of the house 
and one of them, taking the rifle of his companion, 
stopped at the corner of the wall at the driveway. 
The other slipped to the door, gently tried the latch 
and opened it, one hand hidden beneath the folds of a 



LOS TEJANOS!" 335 



dirty blanket. The door swung silently open and shut 
and the intruder cast a swift glance around the room. 

Captain Salezar grinned into the cracked mirror 
hanging on the wall, stiffened to attention, and saluted 
the image in the glass. 

"Colonel Salezar's orders, sir," he declaimed and 
then, staring with unbelieving eyes at the apparition 
pushing out onto the mirror, crossed himself, whirled 
and drew his sword almost in one motion. 

The Delaware cringed and pulled at a lock of hair 
straggling down past his eyes and held out a folded 
paper, swiftly placing a finger on his lips. 

"Por le Capitan despues le Gobernador," he whispered. 
*' Pronto!" 

The captain's anger and suspicion at so uncere- 
monious an entry slowly faded, but he did not lower 
the sword. The Delaware slid forward, abject and 
fearful, his eyes riveted on the clumsy blade, the 
paper held out at arm's length. " Por le Capitan," he 
muttered. *' Pronto!" 

" You son of swine ! " growled Salezar. " You 
scum! Is this the way you enter an officer's house? 
How did you pass the sentry? A score of lashes on 
both your backs will teach you manners and him his 
duty. Give me that message and stand aside till I 
call the guard ! " 

" Perddn, Capitan! Perddn, perddn! " begged the 
Delaware. " Le Gohernador — " his hands streaked 
out, one gripping the sword wrist of the captain, the 
other fastening inexorably on the greasy, swarthy 
throat well up under the chin. As the grips clamped 
down the Delaware's knee rose and smashed into the 



336 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Mexican's stomach. The sword clattered against a 
wall and the two men fell and rolled and thrashed 
across the floor. 

" Where is she ? " grated the Indian as he writhed 
and rolled, now underneath and now uppermost. 
'" Where is she, you murdering dog? " 

They smashed against the flimsy table and over- 
turned it, candle, liquor and all. The candle flickered 
out and the struggle went on in the darkness. 

"Where is she, Salezar? Yore in th' hands of a 
Texauy you taker of ears! Where is she?" 

Salezar was no weakling and although he had no 
more real courage than a rat, like a rat he was cor- 
nered and fighting for his Hfe; but Captain Salezar 
liad lived well and lazily, as his pampered body was 
now showing evidence. Try as he might he could 
tjot escape those steel-like fingers for more than a 
moment. With desperate strength he broke their 
hold time and again as he writhed and bridged and 
rolled, clawed and bit; but they clamped back again 
as often. His shouts for help were choked gasps 
and the strength he had put forth in the beginning oi^' 
the struggle was waning. 

The table was now a wreck and they rolled in and 
over the debris. Salezar made use of his great spurs 
at every chance and his opponent's clothing was 
ripped and torn to shreds wet with blood. His fingers 
searched for his enemy's eyes and missed them, but 
left their marks on the painted face. They rolled 
against one wall and then back to the other; they 
slammed again at the door and back into the wreckage 
of the table. 



''LOS TEJANOS!" 337 

" Where is she? " panted the Delaware. " Tell me, 
Salezar, where is she? " 

The captain wriggled desperately and almost gained 
the top, and thought he sensed a weakened opposi- 
tion. " Where she will remain ! " he choked. " Mis- 
tress of the palacio — until he tires — of her. You — 
cursed Tejano dog ! " He drove a spur at his enemy's 
side, missed, and it became entangled in the rags. 

The Delaware, blind with fury, smashed his knee 
into the soft abdomen and snarled at the answering 
gasp of pain. "Remember th' prisoners? Near 
Valencia — Ernest died in the — night. You cut off 
his ears — and threw his body in a — ditch!" He 
got the throat hold again in spite of nails and teeth, 
blows and spurs. " McAllister was shot because he — 
could not walk. You stole his clothes — cut off his 
ears and left — his body at th' side of th' — road for 
the wolves ! " He felt the spurs graze his leg and he 
threw it across the body of the Mexican. " Golpin 
was shot — other side of Dead Man's Lake. You 
took — his ears too!" He hauled and tugged and 
managed to roll his enemy onto his other leg. " On 
th' Dead Man's Journey — Griffin's brains were 
knocked out with a — gun butt. His ears were cut 
off, too! " Hooking his feet together he clamped his 
powerful thighs in a viselike grip on his enemy. 
" Gates died in a wagon near — El Paso, of starvation, 
sickness — an' fright. You got his — ears!" 

"As — I'll get — yours!" hoarsely moaned Salezar, 
again missing with the spurs. " The seiiorita will be 
happy — in Armijo's arms. After that — the soldiers 
— can have her ! " 



S38 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

The Delaware loosened his leg grip, jerked them 
up toward the captain's stomach as he hauled his 
victim down toward them, and clamped them tight 
again over the soft stomach. 

"Yore lies stick — in yore throat — Salezar!" he 
panted. **An' those murders cry — to heaven; but 
you'll only — hear th' echoes ringin' through hell — for 
all eternity. You called th' roll of th' livin' — on that 
damnable march; /'m — callin' th* roll of th* dead! 
Yore name comes last ! There's many a Texan would 
give his — chance of heaven to change places — with 
me, now!" He raised his head in the darkness. 
"Oh, Ernest, old pardner; I'm payin' yore debt, in 
full!" 

The spurs stabbed in vain, for the Delaware was 
now well above their flaying range ; the nails scoring 
his face were growing feeble. He shifted the leg hold 
again and managed to imprison one of Salezar's arms 
in their grip. Lifting himself from the hips, he re- 
leased the throat hold and grabbed the Mexican's 
other arm, thrust it under him and fell back on it as 
his two hands, free now to work their worst, leaped 
back under the swarthy chin. The relentless thumbs 
pressed up and in. 

The Blackfoot on guard at the end of the driveway 
thought he heard the door open and close, but there 
was no doubt about the labored breathing which 
wheezed along the dark wall. Stumbling steps fal- 
tered and dragged and then the Delaware bumped 
into him and held to him for a moment. 

" Git th* bosses, Hank ! " came a mumbled com- 
mand. 



"LOS TEJANOS!" 339 

"Thar with Jim an' Zeb," whispered the hunter m 
surprise. " How'd ye get so wet? Is that blood?" 

"Spurred me — I'll be all right — soon's I git 
breath. He — fought like a — fiend." 

"Git his ears?" eagerly demanded the Blackfoot. 

"Thar's been ears enough took — already. Come 
on; she's in th' palacio — with Armijo!" 

"Jest what we figgered, damn him!" growled the 
Blackfoot, leading the way. 

In the stable at the rear of the courtyard a decrepit 
dog, white with age, had barked feebly when its 
breath permitted, while the fight had raged in the 
house. The Blackfoot had considered stopping the 
wheezy warnings, but they did not have power enough 
to lure him from his watch. He had accepted the 
lesser of the two evils and remained on guard. As 
the two Indians crept from the courtyard the aged 
animal burst into a paroxysm of barking, which ex- 
hausted it. To those who knew the captain's dog, 
its barking long since had lost all meaning, for, as the 
soldiers said, it barked over nothing. They did not 
know that the animal dreamed day and night of the 
days of its youth and strength and now, in its dotage, 
in imagination was living over again stirring incidents 
of hunts and fights long past. Gradually it recovered 
its strength from sounding its barked warnings in 
vain, and pantingly sniffed the air. Its actions became 
frantic and the decrepit old dog struggled to its feet, 
swaying on its feeble legs, its grizzled muzzle point- 
ing toward its master's house. The composite body 
odor it had known for so many years had changed, 
and ceased abruptly. Whining and whimpering, the 



540 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

dog- searched the air currents, but in vain; the scent 
came no more. Then, sinking back on its haunches, 
it raised its gray nose to the sky and poured out its 
grief in one long, quavering howl of surprising volume. 

The sleeping square sprang to life, superstitious 
terror dominated the barracks. Lights gleamed sud- 
denly and the barracks door opened slowly, grudging- 
ly as frightened soldiers hurriedly crossed themselves. 
Don Jesu and Robideau pushed hesitatingly to the 
portal and peered fearsomely into the night. They 
suddenly cried out, drew their ancient pistols, and 
fired at two vague figures slinking hurriedly along 
the side of the house opposite. From the darkness 
there came quick replies. A coruscating poniard of 
spiteful flame stabbed into the night. Don Jesu 
whirled on buckling legs and pitched sidewise to the 
street. A second stab of sparky flame split the dark- 
ness and Robideau reeled back into the arms of his 
panicky soldiers. As the heavy reports rolled through 
the town they seemed to be a signal, for on the south- 
ern outskirts of Santa Fe gun after gun crashed in a 
rippling, spasmodic volley. A few stragglers in the 
all but deserted streets raised a dreaded cry and fled 
to the nearest shelter. The cry was taken up and 
sent rioting through the city; doors were doubly 
barred and the soldiers in the barracks, safer behind 
the thick mud walls than they would be out in the 
dark open against such an enemy, slammed shut the 
ponderous door and frantically built barricades of 
everything movable. 

" Los Tejanos! " rolled the panicky cries. " Los 
Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" 



LOS TEJANOS!'* 34F 



The wailing warning of the coming of a plague: 
could not have held more terror. Gone were the 
vaunted boastings and the sneers ; gone was the swag- 
gering bravado of the dashing cahalleros, who had said 
what they would do to any Texan force that dared 
to brave the wrath of the defenders of San Francisco 
de la Santa Fe. Gone was all faith, never too sincere, 
in ancient escopeta and rusty blunderbuss, now that 
the occasion was close at hand to measure them 
against the devil weapons of hardy Texan fighting' 
men, of the breed that had stood off, bloody day after 
bloody day, four thousand Mexican regulars before a: 
little adobe church, now glorified for all the ages yet to 
come. To panicky minds came magic words of evil 
portent; the Alamo and San Jacinto. To evil con- 
sciences, bowed with guilt, came burning memories 
of that sick and starved Texan band that had walked 
through winter days and shivered through winter 
nights from Santa Fe to the capital, two thousand, 
miles of suffering, and every step a torture. Texan 
ears had swung from a piece of rusty wire to feed the 
cruel conceit of a swarthy tyrant. 

" Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" 
At the palacio a human brute recoiled before a 
barred door between him and a desperate captive, 
his honeyed cajolings turning to acid on his lying 
tongue. No longer did he hear the measured tread 
of the palace guards, who secretly exulted as they 
fled and left him defenseless. 

"Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" 
He dashed through a door to grab his weapons and 
flee, and in through the open, undefended portal from 



642 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

the square leaped a blood-covered Delaware, an epic 
of rags and rage, a man so maddened that all thought 
of weapons save Nature's, had gone from his burning 
brain. Behind him leaped a Blackfoot, dynamic and 
deadly as a panther, a Colt pistol in one eager, up- 
raised hand, in the other the cold length of a keen 
skinning knife. Behind them from a wagon deserted 
in the square came the sharp crashes of Hawken and 
Colt, and a shouted battlecry : *' Remember th' Alamo! 
Remember th' Alamo! Texans to th' fore!" 

As the Delaware dashed past an open door he 
caught a flurry of movement, the flare of a pistol and 
his laughter pealed out in one mad shout as he 
stopped like a cat and leaped in through the opening. 
Another flash, another roar, and a burning welt across 
a shoulder spurred the bloody Nemesis to a greater 
speed. The wavering sword he knocked aside and 
near two hundred pounds of fighting, mountain sinew 
hurled itself behind a driving fist. The hurthng bulk 
of Armijo crashed against a wall and dropped like a 
bag of grain as the plunging Delaware whirled to 
pounce upon it. As he turned, a scream rang out 
somewhere behind him, through the door he had just 
entered, a scream vibrant with desperate hope, and 
he bellowed a triumphant answer. Here was his 
mission; Armijo was a side issue. The governor, 
helpless before him, was forgotten and the Delaware 
whirled through the door bellowing one name over 
and over again. "Patience! Patience! Patience!'' 

"Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" came from the pub- 
lic square. 

"Los Tejanos! Los Tejanos!" quavered the de- 



LOS TEJANOSr 343 



spairing echo throughout the quaking town, while 
from the south there came the steady crash of alien 
rifles, firing harmlessly into the air. 

Before him a Blackfoot methodically battered at a 
door, taking a few quick steps backward and a plung- 
ing dive forward. The Delaware shouted again and 
added the power of his driving weight. There came 
a splintering crash and the door went in. The Black- 
foot whirled and darted to the great portal leading to 
the square, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a 
cougar expecting danger at every point. The Dela- 
ware scrambled to his feet and gathered a white- 
faced woman in his arms, crushing her to his bloody 
chest. He felt her go suddenly limp and, throwing 
her across a bare and bleeding shoulder, he drew a 
Colt repeating pistol and sprang after his Indian ally, 
not feeling the weight of his precious burden. 

Lurid, stabbing rapiers of fire still sprang from the 
wagon barricade, making death certain to any man 
who opened the barracks' door. Between their heavy 
roars the woodwork of the wagon smacked sharply 
in time to bursts of fire from the barracks' few win- 
dows. The Delaware darted from the palacio door 
and held close to the wall, hidden by the portico and 
the darkness. As he reached the end of the column- 
supported roof the Blackfoot bulked out of the night 
on his horse, and leading four others. The lost-soul 
call of a loon sounded and changed the deadly wagon 
into a vehicle of peace and quiet as its Arapahoe de- 
fenders slipped away from it. The sudden creaking 
of saddle leather was followed by the rolling thunder 
of flying hoofs as the first three horses left the square. 



344 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

A moment's pause and then two more horses galloped 
through the darkness after the others, the Arapahoe 
rear guard sitting almost sidewise in their saddles, 
their long, hot rifles pointing backward to send hotter 
greetings to whoever might follow. 

They raced like gambling fools through the dark 
night, the Blackfoot leading the way with the instinct 
of a homing bird. Mile after mile strung out behind 
them, pastures, gullies, knolls rolling past. While 
they climbed and dipped and circled they gradually 
sensed a steady rising of the ground. Suddenly the 
Blackfoot shouted for them to halt, and the laboring 
horses welcomed the moment's breathing space. The 
guide threw himself on the ground and pressed his 
ear against it. In a moment he was back in the saddle 
and gave the word to go on again. He had heard 
no sounds of pursuit and he chuckled as he leaned 
over close to the Delaware who rode at his flank. 

" Nothin' stirrin' behind us, fur's I could make out," 
he said. "They can only track us by sound in th* 
dark, at any speed, an' I'm gamblin' they w^ait fer 
daylight. Thar scared ter stick thar noses out o* 
doors this night. How's yore gal?" 

Tom's rumbling reply could mean anything and 
they kept on through the night without further words. 
The trail had been growing steadily rougher and 
steeper and the horses were permitted to fall into a 
swinging lope. Another hour passed and then Hank 
signalled for a stop. From his lips whistled the 
crowded, hurried, repeated call of a whip-poor-will. 
Three times the insistent demand rang out, clear and 
piercing. At the count of ten an echoing whistle 



"LOS TEJANOS!" 545 

sounded and a light flickered on the trail ahead. 

"J'get her?" bawled a voice, tremulous with fear 
and anxiety, and only a breath ahead of another. 

" Hell yes ! " roared Hank. " Got Salezar, Don Jesu 
and Robideau, too; only we left them behind — with 
thar ears ! " 

In another moment Uncle Joe and Adam Cooper 
took the precious burden from the Delaware's numbed 
arms, someone uncovered the lighted candle lantern, 
and saddles were thrown on fresh mounts. The 
Pueblo pushed forward and peered into Patience's 
fac€, and his own face broke into smiles. His torrent 
of mixed Spanish and Indian brought a grin to Hank's 
painted countenance. 

" This hyar shore is good beaver," he chuckled, 
clapping the Pueblo on the shoulder, " but thar's more 
good news fer you." He put his mouth close to the 
Pueblo's ear and whispered : " Yer friend Salezar will 
be leadin' a percession ter th' buryin' ground. That 
Delaware thar killed him with his bare hands!" 

The Pueblo touched Tom's arm, his hand passing 
down it caressingly, to be seized in a grip which made 
him wince; and when Adam Cooper offered him a 
handful of gold coins the Indian drew himself up 
proudly and pushed them away. 

"For his friends Pablo do what he can," he said 
in Spanish. "I now take these horses back on the 
trail to make a puzzle in the sand that will take time 
to read. Pablo does not forget. Adios! " He vault- 
ed onto his horse, took the lead ropes of the tired 
mounts, and was lost in the darkness, eager to weave 
a pattern of hoof marks to mock pursuing eyes. 



346 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

The little cavalcade pushed on, following a trail 
that wound along the sides of the mountains, passing 
many places where a handful of resolute men could 
check scores. The cold mountain air bit shrewdly, 
and occasional gusts of wind blustered along the tim- 
bered slopes and set the pines and cedars whispering. 
Higher and higher went the narrow trail, skirting 
sheer walls of rock on one side, and dizzy precipices 
on the other; higher and higher plodded the little car- 
avan in single file, following the unhesitant leader. 

There came a leaden glow high up on the right. 
It paled swiftly as a streak of silver flared up behind 
the jagged crests of the mountains, here and there 
caught by a snow mantle to gleam in virgin white. 
On the left lay abysmal darkness, like a lake of ink, 
and slowly out of it pushed ranks of treetops as the 
dawn rolled downward and the mountain fogs dis- 
solved in dew. Deep canons, sheer precipices; long 
streaks on mountain sides where resistless avalanches 
had scraped all greenery from the glistening rock; 
green amphitheaters, fit for fairy pageants; velvety 
knolls and jewels of mountain pastures lay below them, 
with here and there the crystal gleam of ribbon-like 
mountain brooks, their waters embarked on a long, 
depressing journey through capricious oceans of bil- 
lowy sands and the salty leagues of desert wastes. 
Birds flashed among the branches, chipmunks chat- 
tered furiously at these unheeding invaders of their 
mountain fastness; high up on a beetling crag a big- 
horn ram was silhouetted in rigid majesty, and over 
all lazily drifted an eagle against the paling western 
sky, symbolical of freedom. 



"LOS TEJANOS!'' 347 

There came the musical tinkle of falling water and 
Hank stopped, raising his hand. Into the little moun- 
tain dell the caravan wound and in a moment muscles 
tired and cramped from long, hard riding found relief 
in a score of little duties. While the animals were 
relieved of saddles and packs and securely picketed, 
and a fire made of dry wood from a bleached windfall, 
Hank climbed swiftly up the mountain side for a 
view of the back trail. Perched on an out-thrust fin- 
ger of rock high above the dell he knelt motionless, 
searching with keen and critical eyes every yard of 
that windswept trail, following it along its sloping 
length until it shrunk into a hair line across the frown- 
ing mountain sides and then faded out entirely. Be- 
low him grotesque figures moved about like gnomes 
performing incantations around a tiny blaze ; dwarfed 
horses cropped the plentiful grass and succulent 
leaves, and a timid streamer of pale blue smoke arose 
like a plumb line until the cruising gusts above the 
tree-tops tore it into feathery wisps and carried it 
away. Across the valley the rising sun pushed golden 
floods of light into crevices, among the rocks, and 
turned the pines and cedars into glistening cones of 
green on stems of jet. 

" Wall," said a voice below him, " hyar I am. Go 
down an' feed. See anythin'?" 

Hank leaned over and looked down at the climbing 
figure, whose laborious progress sent a noisy stream 
of clicking pebbles behind him like sparks from a 
rocket. 

" Nothin' I ain't plumb glad ter see," replied Hank. 
"This hyar beats th' settlements all ter hell." As 



3^48 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

Jim's horrible face peered over the edge of the rock 
balcony Hank eyed it critically and shook his head. 
"I've seen some plumb awful lookin' 'Rapahoes; but 
nothin' ter stack up ag'in you. Vermillion mebby is 
yer favorite color, but it don't improve yer looks 
a hull lot. Neither does that sorrel juice. How's th* 
gal?" 

" Full o' spunk an' gittin' chipper as a squirrel," 
answered Jim. " Who's goin' ter git th' blame fer 
last night's fandango?" 

" Four murderin' Injuns, a-plunderin' an' a-kid- 
nappin'," chuckled Hank. " Woodson's goin' ter raise 
hell about th' hull Cooper fambly bein' stole. Ar- 
mijo'll keep his mouth shet an' pass th' crime along 
ter us, an' make a great show o' gittin' us; but," he 
winked knowingly at his accomplice in the night's 
activities, " chasin' four desperite Injuns along an 
open trail, whar his sojers kin spread out an' take 
advantage o' thar bein' twenty ter one is one thing; 
chasin' 'em along a trail like this, whar they has ter 
ride Injun fashion, is a hull lot difif'rent. They've had 
thar bellies full o' chasin' along Injun trails in th' 
mountings. Th' Apaches, Utes, an' Comanches has 
showed 'em it don't pay. Thar's sharpshooters that 
can't be got at ; thar's rollin' rocks, an' ambushes ; an' 
chasin' murderin' Injuns afoot up mounting sides ain't 
did in this part o' th' country." 

" Meanin' we won't be chased?" demanded Jim, 
incredulously. 

" Not meanin' nothin' o' th' kind, " growled Hank, 
spitting into three hundred feet of void. " We killed 
some of th' military aristo-crazy, as Tom calls 'em, 



''LOS TEJANOS!" 349 

didn't we ? We made fools outer th' whole prairie-dog 
town, didn't we? An' what's worse, we stole th' gal 
that Armijo war sweet on, an' Tom knocked him 
end over end — oh, Jim, ye should 'a' seen that! Six 
feet o' greaser gov'ner a-turnin' a. cartwheel in his 
own house ! Chase us ? Hell, yes ! " 

The Arapahoe rubbed his chin. " Fust ye say one 
thing, then ye say another. What ye mean, OV 
Buffaler?" 

" I'm bettin' thar's a greaser army a-poundin' along 
th' wagon road fer Raton Pass," replied Hank, spitting 
again with great gusto. "We're a Delaware from 
Bent's, a Blackfoot from th' Upper Missoury, an' two 
ugly 'Rapahoes from 'tother side o' St. Vrains, ain't 
we? Wall, if ye know a fox's den ye needn't f oiler 
him along th' ridges." He chuckled again. " We're 
go'm! another way over some Ute trails I knows of." 

" But s'posin' they f oiler us along this trail?" 

Hank looked speculatively back along the narrow 
pathway, with its numerous bends, and then glanced 
pityingly at his anxious friend. " I jest told ye why 
they won't; an' if they do, let 'em!" 

Ogden looked steadily southward along the trail and 
suddenly laughed: "Yes; let 'em!" 

In the great courtyard of Bent's Fort one evening 
more than a week later, three trappers sat with their 
backs against the brass cannon that scowled at the 
heavy doors. They were planning their winter's trip 
in the mountains, figuring out the supplies and para- 
phernalia for a party of four, when Hank, glancing 
up, saw two people slowly walking along the high, 
wide parapet on the side toward the Arkansas. He 



350 "BRING ME HIS EARS" 

raised an arm, pointing, and his companions, following 
it with their eyes, saw the two figures suddenly be- 
come like one against the moonlit sky. 

Hank sighed, bit his lip, and looked down. 

" Better figger on a party o' three," he said. 



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